Foot by the guidance of the upper look
Whom with me expresses my most dense thought?
My steam freezes, then present is the rook.
Until I arrive, I have only saught
What middle, what pitiful mean remains;
Several scuttles of similar stake
Curious, clambering minds become brains
How breathless from the average can I make?
To open, in an act of diffusion,
To homeless home, to state of unstated;
A grand acceptance of wild confusion.
To the surface of the cheese, ungrated.
Where the press may never know to cover,
A manifest frontier rediscovered. Poetry has never been brass water for me. I mean, who really meantions cheese when they are trying to be “artsy serious?”
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touching...to put it mildly. keep it up!!!
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Mmm, I am really not a poet. I was kind of looking for an up to date reference of how I am at it and I think I have that with 37 views, 14 hours and one post. I may stick to having questions on this site. ;)
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well who would put a the ungraded cheese in a poem ?only a person with a great imagination and a great future ,remember the painting with campbells soup? who ever thought of a can of soup become a masterpiece? i only hope you keep doing it.....
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Hehehe, well... Practice. That's that I suppose. Thanks for the up lift! (Although I will admit that I was never quite "down;" its just a sonnet about a six hour walk)