Grey Clouds Poem by John Kipling Lewis
Grey Clouds
The grey clouds are heavy enough to be my covers and as I pull them over me to hide from it all I feel all consumed.
I hide from;
noise
light
voices
responsibilities
touch
love
and my own thoughts.
Under here the cold is both welcome and defending. I wiggle to get the coldest spots.
Only primal urges will release me from this soft cold coffin;
urine
food
water
sex
4. First of all, the lists just do not work. The items in them are too general, if not complete abstractions. It is to poetry what clip art is to painting. (The second list isn't even accurate. Those aren't urges, those are *objects* of urges.) The other parts are concrete and they do work. Work around them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/15/2024 9:05:02 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I think I get it but, I also think it needs someway to connect with the reader more.