we're so unlike,
we could be twins,
which does not even
make much sins,
but that's just how
we roll 'round here:
shoot from the hip,
then pop
a beer
let us look deeply
into our own blindness,
examining deeply
everything we can't see;
for the sources of our
problems are many, but
we remain convinced,
none of them
are us
people who know me, know
that i'm a crashing bore;
i prate on endlessly --
i'm not quite sure what for --
i cure insomnia, i think,
with sentences prolific:
and i know some can soothe with words,
but mine are
soporific
they all called him a monster,
for having scales and spikes;
then went back to their safety zones
of pages, views, and likes
but he was not a monster --
he was in fact, refined --
but words can be most harmful
when they are least
defined
To the voice of this poem, it indeed has a soothing effect. I wanted to challenge it for a drivel, but lets not get super excited. And lovely art, (mathematical) scales, and spikes.
Wow! Lovely poems accompany intriguing art 🙂
Thank you!
To the voice of this poem, it indeed has a soothing effect. I wanted to challenge it for a drivel, but lets not get super excited. And lovely art, (mathematical) scales, and spikes.
We can all occasionally use more spikes. 🙂
I love these and the artwork is fantastic!
The images are from an artist named Bernardo Ramonfaur.