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.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
the rains come
i will come back to myself
iguana skylark ichthyosaur
after years of grieving
cloudbank green sap rising granite butte
i need a river or pond to see myself says the cloud so finally
Thanks Rachel, yes I enjoyed this poem, which more came through and had a different ending cadence than ones I usually think of as "my" poems. Perhaps, not surprising, the cloud has its own poetic voice?
mmm...tender imagery, Scooter. I can see, hear, smell, the space you're deliniating.
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Rachel
Thanks Rachel, yes I enjoyed this poem, which more came through and had a different ending cadence than ones I usually think of as "my" poems. Perhaps, not surprising, the cloud has its own poetic voice?
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