poetry

thin threads tie the finest bones
to each other,
the fragile traces
of words and meanings,
like the filament of a bulb,
illuminated, extinguished,
to be dead and reborn,

time
and time
again.

they tie themselves to me
my flesh,
my pulses sent to the outer reaches,
some fly, heaven sent
some meet the end of their time
as ancient turtles
swept up like rocks on remote
forgotten beaches.

time
and time
again.

there is no reason for poetry,
for time will
render me in it’s own way,
its own tiny flame,
and sweet rising suns and stars,
or broken sadnesses and blackened hearts,

some losses,
some gains

time
and time
and time
again.

poetry

uncleblack

Joined February 2010

  • Artwork Comments 16

Artwork Comments

  • Julie  White
  • uncleblack
  • Philosophy Lee
  • uncleblack
  • LisaMM
  • uncleblack
  • kenroome
  • uncleblack
  • evon ski
  • uncleblack
  • evon ski
  • uncleblack
  • Rocky Loder
  • uncleblack
  • CreativeKitty
  • uncleblack
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

10% off

for joining the Redbubble mailing list

Receive exclusive deals and awesome artist news and content right to your inbox. Free for your convenience.