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a.m.
Contributed by
elle
on
Saturday, 12th May 2012 @ 07:42:30 PM in AEST
Topic:
abstract
|
there is little that I do not know
it's just a matter of revelation. . . now
yet not within the mind that's mine
but yonder
further than any realm of skull or pulp
just outside of my hearts reach; it pounds
& I ponder
inattentively. . .
I gather eggs from morning
I leave the hens to sulking in their nests
& wonder
do they miss the warmth
of unknown biddies
do they panic inwardly
with loss?
I wait outside; the basket
shifts. . . a burden now
as it screams. . .
the day
has just begun
Copyright ©
elle
... [
2012-05-12 19:42:30]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: a.m.
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Saturday, 12th May 2012 @ 07:59:50 PM AEST
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a Message)
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Abstract indeed.
I don't know if they panic inwardly from loss but they'll panic when you need to BBQ! :p Really, though, I don't think hens think much at all.
Anyway...
So, what you're sayin' is all knowledge is ours as long as we know which realm to tap in to?
Lastly but not least, I love talking baskets. Screaming ones, I dunno.
I do know that your poetry has a way of inspiring me to write....more.
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Re: a.m.
(User Rating: 1 )
by poewhit on
Saturday, 12th May 2012 @ 11:19:05 PM AEST
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| I don't think many, except farmers, think about gathering eggs. Interesting perspective for a city person to ponder. |
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Re: a.m.
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Saturday, 12th May 2012 @ 11:40:51 PM AEST
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raw, this is, wonderful. Thanks, elle!
not a farmer, not having lived on a farm whatsoever myself, it bares morning chores in mind with all simplicity, speaking directly to life even city kids maybe luckily learn in the first grade. I remembered incubating an egg. And, what an incredible shell and the all that is inside it.
your poem, a.m. is really nice---
Peace! |
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