when I do nothing nothing just thinking thoughts
each thought cornered counterpointed
dissipates silence breaking seals of the impossible
evaluations scramble upon the civic minds
that sometimes bark at these thoughts
peeping out of the hole of my mind
so sorry I me spell sometimes too hard
so sorry I me spell sometimes cruel
it's the world the world trembling on my lips
the whipped may be better than silenced
because each thought counts
no matter how scribal or cryptic it might be
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem