Image by Hannes digicam.coza – Users
Subterranean Thought
by me
Ground dweller,
Seeking answers
In the landscape of being.
Trapped under a canopy
Of idealism.
Unfold a repertoire
Gone yellow and brittle.
Skim the middle words.
A foray, one might think
Into something new.
Spend the afternoon hours
Immersed,
In the mysticism of a carrot.
Embracing the solid rhythm
Of idleness.
Focus on the gnawing,
Empty ache,
Until it splinters
In a display of glistening chaos
To reveal a voiceless whisper.
One glimpse
Of raw, unadulterated insight.
Not something new,
But excavated, ancient
And long forgotten.
I haven’t posted a poem in a couple of months. There are so many blogs celebrating National Poetry month. I’m not much of a poet, but I do enjoy the manipulation of word and thought so I do occasionally write them. Do you have poems to share? Laura at Mad Below My Feet is posting a photograph and a poem each day, so be sure to check her out. I may get up the nerve to post others and I may not.
My last poem was here. The Write Snark: Anger Writing – the shirt in that post moved to the “My spirit guide thinks you’re hot” section. (g)