the mind,
convolution’dly cracked
tangled thorns of lost memories
rolling across,
hurried by the dry wind.
the silhouettes,
this burned paper snips
sporadically looking
for the shelter,
from the deafening screams,
screams of the burning words.
& the creeping premonition
of the approaching void.

time for a cup of tea,
in this hot summery afternoon.


4 thoughts on “time

  1. this one seems to be personal, so much so that it feels a little cryptic? heavy thoughts in the whole poem, and then a very casual nonchalant ending which negates the whole heavy? or simply seeks to focus attention away from it? good writing, I’ll have to read a few more times to try to capture more.

  2. “Screams of the burning words… And the creeping premonition”…. I feel this intensely… So many times I have penned my screams… Had they been on actual paper I probably would have burned them… Then there’s those “premonitions”… Those “gut feelings” of knowing that a thing was going to happen… The very thing that caused those “deafening screams”. Thank you for writing this. 🙂

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