Threads

Posted: February 16, 2002 in Poetry
Tags: , , , ,

This is the way I take emotional photos:
Spat on to paper by the stylus at hand.
Clipped coupons of what’s come to mind
As I perform this audienceless exercise.
I hear the cacophony of voices
Opining inside my skull
Each struggling to surface and be heard;
To pick a thread with the eye of a needle,
Focus until it smoulders,
Then collapses in ashes into sub-consciousness.,
Is to draw these characters here;
It is to write stop-start to fill paper
Week after week and year after year.
These are scrapbooks, collages, shadowboxes
Of my dreams and my feelings.
These words might as well be wraiths,
But they may be looking to weave themselves
Into another mind.

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