Poems and poetry as experiential art experiments, created by a dedicated core, sparking consciousness river, word slurry. A harvest of poems and creative thought from a creative collective cadre.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
blue boy
the painter gave me my brother's face
i was always running in the woods
scruffian mudflap
knee scowl tree tromp
why they gussied me up
and the painter stole sky for my cloth
i'll never know
i was a force of nature
not this delicate aristocrat
they stole my unborn brother's face
shined me beyond recognition
and made me into a boy
stole the sky and moved all the dirt to the back
what kind of picture is that?
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I like the tone, humor & style...talks to me...thanks
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