deepundergroundpoetry.com
Messages
Here they are again
burrowing into my brain
as grateful as eels for warm mud
while my fingers feed on the electric thrill
of watching the words appear
Earliest morning is the best time
but the dry mouth and sticky eyes
must wait
a few stretches of my forehead
will vanquish both
my heavy tongued blinking
vanishing with the night.
I receive.
burrowing into my brain
as grateful as eels for warm mud
while my fingers feed on the electric thrill
of watching the words appear
Earliest morning is the best time
but the dry mouth and sticky eyes
must wait
a few stretches of my forehead
will vanquish both
my heavy tongued blinking
vanishing with the night.
I receive.
Published 3rd Dec 2009
| Edited 30th Sep 2014
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3rd Dec 2009 9:31am
per usual dear. I always wondered what a poem about writing poetry would be like, could ever do it justice myself. Quite vivid, great imagery.
3rd Dec 2009 10:14am
Why thank you Kandice - what is justice anyway - and most of all I know you will forgive the typo in line 10 ( will for with ) I also hope that's not the title for a sequel called 'Typos at Dawn'
Anonymous
3rd Dec 2009 1:34pm
arresting imagery,this is terribly good A.
3rd Dec 2009 2:59pm
...mmm, then perhaps I ought to have written more about it - but it was the first of the day! Thanks P.
