Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Questions & Statements (2003)


I didn't start,
I just supposed
that I was writing;
I pretended.

When to leave and
what to leave behind?

Writing poetry,
a spiralling,
a gift to
drive light into.

But how and
why the words?

The role I choose
to play in this
poem is a
parental one...

How to put the
poem to sleep?

Once all the secrets
are dry, words
neither believed
nor feared...

Faith and fear
have changed?

Now I believe
in absence
as much as
appearance.

Where is my sense
of irony?

Behold my head
curved inward,
I cannot hear,
that's for sure.

Can you hear me
filling with water?

I am sheer receptacle,
a holder from
out of which
drinks are poured.

What's your
poison?

I mouth words,
becoming even
as I speak,
unspeakable.

How to swallow
the future?

I have chosen
already,
to wash it
down quickly.

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