Archive
02/16/11
Light As the Breeze
My peripatetic soul travels light as the breeze, Mindful only of keeping a supply of Boorum & Pease notebooks And a reserve of medium-point Bic Cristals at hand, To ensure my artistic spirits the freedom they need For breathing, in and out, their imaginations' inspirations.
Indeed, I go unclothed, invisible, anonymous as a cloud, Heedless, careless, insouciant, Not shy, in the slightest, about owning up to my solitude, Admitting, confessing I'm a recluse, a loner, a hermit In a cosmos connected, digitally, to the gods of a virtual universe.
I prefer living my existence on the edge of disconnection, Facing, second to second, the prospect of forgetting my next vision Or the most recent thought fleeing my mind, Rather than being instantaneously omniscient, With a few keystrokes creating an immortal, viral bible of cyberwind.
As for the fragments, tatters, and shards of poetic expressions That slowly, gropingly, unknowingly disclose themselves, Whenever I take up pen, probe my notebook, Trying to find signs of my identity hiding between the lines, They alone keep my soul's travels free, light as the breeze.
02/16/11
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