TPAC Alexander Coppedge
Whispers - Poem by TPAC Alexander Coppedge
In a set stare within the seams of views,
bare mind stripped peering out thinking,
eyes locked on in emptiness in a dare.
Looking curtain by side to hang it rose,
snap whipping pop in front of my nose,
then feelings a felt hose of utterances.
I know I saw a misty form in movement,
capturing in the ear a tone low it heard,
flow of a cold dead chill go by of a body.
Visions seen by a show rush men acts,
their opening given back at curtain row,
return again bow at last touch home soil.
I turn backwards to occurrences fright,
having me no vision by any precise sight,
visitor is right here in pad hitting doors.
Inside home safety found shaking a tot,
this fact I'll not deny said a wooing noise,
traced I'm a dazed programmed bot.
Guest comes speak to me slow words,
not I understanding fully wow his notes,
statements that are heard spoken low.
Sounds of sin image beyond to tell a fall,
my pin post of life about spooky things,
blowing in the wind hearing tin noise.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
shadows. Reality in the
Holy Text identity out of
flesh a ghost. Have ghosts
who you call?
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