when poems stun
intrepid crawlers articulate madness
i feel like a visceral embodiment of thought
trapped between an unstoppable force
and an immovable object.
...
think of a bee
you are its knees
can i come round tuesday please
...
Madness
when poems stun
intrepid crawlers articulate madness
i feel like a visceral embodiment of thought
trapped between an unstoppable force
and an immovable object.
my mind is caught,
among ineffable contradictions demanding a course,
a precedence over my faith's neglect.
a path through the grandeur of unfeasabilities.
the inception of ta thought
is the spiral of decline
ebbing into a web of glistening dew drops
that, in the spiders inconvenience
are the destination
of inspiration
at the end
of the path of madness
but the beginning of something more...