untitled: at the bottom of the glass
Dec 11th, 2009 by Norman
I’ve been polishing this poem ( posted as stumblings)…
Untitled: at the bottom of the glass…
at the bottom of the glass
cold currents cut between us
I saw oceans and islands
separated
isolated
these bodies
these others
they seemed empty
sure we are not concrete
and we are ephemera
shifting constellations
a flux
“consciousness” “awareness” “mind”
is it more than a jig
an air
shadows swimming
in bliss and fear
illusions
confusions
momentary clarities
stones in a muddy field
a puddle of twigs and leaves
the almost truths
the almost real
ghost wanderings
looking for a home
looking for a reason
clinging to a name
and its all just a drunkard’s ramblings
gone before he came
click on the pigeon to home
