I sit here nothing on the page
facing me
nothing
yet you're facing me
and though you
are full of who you
are i don't see what fills you up
all i know you're not blank not vacant
you are fully occupied but i don't see you
or so i think
for i can now see you as i turn the words around
and their meanings begin to emerge
it does not matter what i write
what matters is that i write
and then pause
where are the errors
how do i find the errors
are they simply grammatical mistakes
like you was not blank
or is it that what i write has no meaning
like the man carried the sea on his back
yea, i got it
that's poetry you tell me
the man carries the sea on his back
and all the fishes are out on land
running at Usain Bolt speed
what of the man what does he do
with the sea i mean
and you tell me
he dances in the waters
but how can he
the sea is on his back
again that is poetry
the sea on his back
he dances in the waters
flips flops and back again on his feet
so you see
all things are possible with me
is that what we call poetry
you make me flip plop and am still erect
and even younger
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem