deepundergroundpoetry.com
Artifacts
Settled into the silt
Of a space -
Endowing
It
With place:
Some with lines -
Others, blot
Out white, blotted
With drips in drifts
Of ink
From fountains
In the form
Of
Pens…
So many pens,
Which
Jumped, jounced
&
Jiggle - joggled
Over the sheen of surface,
In the sound
Of spent shell casings
Of this
Weapon of choice.
Published 8th Mar 2022
Author's Note
I was going through some things earlier today...
(Like after I posted sort of about these things!)
I found a whole bunch of old writings!
I marveled.
I even found the three large green,
hard cover notebooks...
And the black ones.
And all the spiral ones,
and a smaller hard cover black one, that I forgot about.
(Like after I posted sort of about these things!)
I found a whole bunch of old writings!
I marveled.
I even found the three large green,
hard cover notebooks...
And the black ones.
And all the spiral ones,
and a smaller hard cover black one, that I forgot about.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
8th Mar 2022 1:44pm
Enjoyed reading he alliteration you laid down here, Cipher... it popped, like gunfire should...
Glad you found those old writings... I know that feeling is like walking back through time, itself.
Great ink, my dear poet 🙏🏻
🌹 - 💙
B
Glad you found those old writings... I know that feeling is like walking back through time, itself.
Great ink, my dear poet 🙏🏻
🌹 - 💙
B
9th Mar 2022 8:55am
