A work in progress..
I don’t know what to call it,
this condition-
Words that come alive,
Letters and phrases moving
360°
Of presumed chaos
I gather the glowing bits
and before long,
a pile begins to form-
Red words, blue, naranja
All sorts of shapes
and inflections-
With their parts
I build things
and sometimes,
when I let down my guard,
My creatures begin to make sense
Poetry by R.W.S.
Read 46 times
Written on 2024-02-17 at 01:27
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Naranja
I don’t know what to call it,
this condition-
Words that come alive,
Letters and phrases moving
360°
Of presumed chaos
I gather the glowing bits
and before long,
a pile begins to form-
Red words, blue, naranja
All sorts of shapes
and inflections-
With their parts
I build things
and sometimes,
when I let down my guard,
My creatures begin to make sense
Poetry by R.W.S.
Read 46 times
Written on 2024-02-17 at 01:27
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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