whitewash
quiet all my loud colors
their incessant shouting mix
their shifts and all
the problems they present
bumping and vying
trying to be heard
and seen and solved
calm them, cover them
with your words of white
their songs spill on
but muted, undiluted, a sulking
humming blister just beneath
this steady thin veneer
its quick skin spread, a swipe
across my quaking ground
--smh
This poem is a Magpie Tale.
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5 comments:
A very fine metaphor poem, well sustained. Thanks
Wow...your surgery hasn't affected your creativity at all! That's wonderful!
I posted one of my poems today even before I checked in to see how the recovery is going.
I enjoyed so much your arrangement of words. Made me think how those cool words of whitewash can sooth over all kinds of shouting colors and screaming problems.
Fine words - excellent stuff.
Anna :o]
This piece hums along like a complex
organism camouflaged as a TM mantra;
it really contained boxcars of emotion,
while presently itself simply, like open
hands before the hug. Love the line:
/a sulking humming blister just
beneath this steady thin veneer/
One of my favorite magpies this
week; thanks.
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