There are scavenger birds
in my head -
scorn hovering above the water
and white skies
I cannot circumvent the obvious -
the obvious,
that bastion which eludes me
am I coming or going
am I the island, the sea?
Forever stripped of heaven
hell bent and in-between
The birds are
soaring above my waters
I hear them even now
looking for survivors
hungry for the dead
tugging
pulling
unraveling
yet they have not found me
--
humbled,
-m.
Spoiler
explanation: this is a poor attempt at an explanation for my hiatus from tyws. I've got the worlds worst case of writer's block and the world's best reason for one - only a month and a half till I welcome my baby boy to the world. But my brain is strait-up baby food yall!
So as a semi-crutch for the poem, I just hope to even just one or two it does communicate the loneliness and white noise of the creative lull
M. aka A FAT BEACHED WHALE
and to you know who: sorry this is as much energy as I have to be "active right now" =(
So as a semi-crutch for the poem, I just hope to even just one or two it does communicate the loneliness and white noise of the creative lull
M. aka A FAT BEACHED WHALE
and to you know who: sorry this is as much energy as I have to be "active right now" =(
