poetry critical

online poetry workshop



castaway
aForA

my life I clutched, a winged caster
 1
my fingers possess my brain
 2
and downward dripping black vision
 3
spews a beautiful stain
 4
 
 
and now we're at the cusp of it
 5
and now we chart the deep
 6
impulses steer to unmarked spots
 7
and thought inscribes the beat
 8
 
 
as I look back upon our path
 9
and see the stained tides
 10
no pier of salt shall I become
 11
for penned in inky depths I ride
 12
 
 
although I steer in circle round
 13
forever out and in
 14
the spot I stop perpetually
 15
is where nature begins.
 16

13 Nov 08


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(7 more poems by this author)



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