Friday, February 24, 2017


Having a standing room
  the door opens
for an engaged Beat
poet who enters
delivering a line
keeping it a secret
until now speaks to us
with confidence
in a form of balances
of meter and sound
from an impression
of celebrating
in an underground
of word play in a world
where love is
hoping our life
will turn around
between high evenings
and slow breathing of words
rapping our feet
not to high jack
the voices of realities
but soaring to the apparitions
on the back of sky birds
to pivot as time slips
away of symbols
of sources in wellsprings
or in apparitions off camera
which is taking our picture
the poet punching back
the last knots
of all past grievances
with no strings attached.

No comments:

Post a Comment