Sometimes the pain screams red the raw
And tugs the push
Into the from and jagged corners.
The furling weir
drags on and trails
blazing backward flames of perihelion anguish
while all the time
hidden deep
and as useful as forgotten notes
lies …
the point?
(3 November 1999)
This powerful poem explores that point beyond which chaos reins and does it with great dramatic intensity and originality. You flash your discordant, painful images across the page and yet finish with a whisper and a question. Great write. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Short and sweet, a great exploration indeed. learned some few new words here as well! will check them surely today at night in my own dictionary...