August 28, 2012

poem 290 of a poem a say for 2012

finding a tucked away poem, is like finding a friend who knows what your other worlds look like

there was a poem
that I had
left in a pocket
from a reading
when I used to go
to all the open mics
more often than I do now
instead I just write
in solitude and
stream my poems
like it was a well paying job
it isn’t
but it sure makes me
smile in the dark
I feel each word become
a raw and ready
sky crawling along
with red eyes
ghosting this world
like this found poem does
when its thoughts
are harvested
and hung with twine
drying each fine scent
that is leaning back
into what words find
when silence eats
a forgotten
then remembered


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