Forgotten Poems #121
i want to write nothing, and nothing is written,
white ink on white page, milk licked by a kitten,
and kitten then seems content, and away
he goes, and takes with him my nothing day
Aw love this Chen. Reminds me of an old one of mine 🖤
.
poetry
isn't something you write:
care for it
like
a kitten
Awesome post 🥰
I slip between lines like dusk slips into bone.
Words crack open my ribs and nest inside.
Syllables burn the roof of my mouth;
bitter, bright, necessary.
Cadence curls like smoke in my lungs,
writing me into its secret script.
I read until I vanish, reborn
as ink on someone else’s skin.
Aw thanks Caroline - really love your poem! This line especially: "Cadence curls like smoke in my lungs" 🖤
To write a poem
Sit alone
And listen to the starling sing.
Into the poem
Place words well honed
To fly like birds on the wing.
Ah - love this Nancy. Very light and fleet rhythmically, and I am always a sucker for exploring the connection between poetry and birds. Thanks for writing! 🖤
And I love reading Forgotten Poets and look forward to each post. What a discovery, Alex Posey! Thank you for your publication.
Aw thanks Nancy! I really appreciate your kind words. Hope to see you in the comments again. 🖤
letting go is a geological lesson
love this line
Aw cheers Kerry! That was the line that tied it all together for me when writing. :-)
I really love this series of short poems by "forgotten" poets. Thank you very much for continuing to post them each week.
Thanks so much for saying so James - really appreciate the encouragement! Hope to see you in the comments section more often. 🖤
Your poem is wonderful! I've taken the liberty of translating it into Spanish, which is my native language »
"el sonido de un niño comiendo yogur
como los primeros momentos del universo,
sucede y no sucede—
como rocas que sueltan el río
o una hilera de hormigas
Dejar ir es una lección geológica"
i want to write nothing, and nothing is written,
white ink on white page, milk licked by a kitten,
and kitten then seems content, and away
he goes, and takes with him my nothing day
Aw love this Chen. Reminds me of an old one of mine 🖤
.
poetry
isn't something you write:
care for it
like
a kitten
.
Awesome post 🥰
I slip between lines like dusk slips into bone.
Words crack open my ribs and nest inside.
Syllables burn the roof of my mouth;
bitter, bright, necessary.
Cadence curls like smoke in my lungs,
writing me into its secret script.
I read until I vanish, reborn
as ink on someone else’s skin.
Aw thanks Caroline - really love your poem! This line especially: "Cadence curls like smoke in my lungs" 🖤
To write a poem
Sit alone
And listen to the starling sing.
Into the poem
Place words well honed
To fly like birds on the wing.
Ah - love this Nancy. Very light and fleet rhythmically, and I am always a sucker for exploring the connection between poetry and birds. Thanks for writing! 🖤
And I love reading Forgotten Poets and look forward to each post. What a discovery, Alex Posey! Thank you for your publication.
Aw thanks Nancy! I really appreciate your kind words. Hope to see you in the comments again. 🖤
letting go is a geological lesson
love this line
Aw cheers Kerry! That was the line that tied it all together for me when writing. :-)
I really love this series of short poems by "forgotten" poets. Thank you very much for continuing to post them each week.
Thanks so much for saying so James - really appreciate the encouragement! Hope to see you in the comments section more often. 🖤
Your poem is wonderful! I've taken the liberty of translating it into Spanish, which is my native language »
"el sonido de un niño comiendo yogur
como los primeros momentos del universo,
sucede y no sucede—
como rocas que sueltan el río
o una hilera de hormigas
Dejar ir es una lección geológica"