This poem,
Is like a resurrection
Ideas dead
The page empty
No sign of life
And then
Almost from nowhere
The cursor moves
and breaks the curse
of stagnation,
And absence of inspiration ,
where once we had nothing,
we have something,
Life from death.
You want proof
well you're reading this
Aren't you?
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Born (Low Hanging Fruit)
He was borne on a branch The low hanging fruit Of the curse The bushel that hung from nails Trellising tight stems to the frame Spurs offer...
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I find the cool channels between buildings where the wind finds flow, This breeze block, asphalt, concrete complex, Where the radiance of ...
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When honest becomes your brand, you'd better shut up shop The truth of you for sale, the under hand slides up top, Your candour on dema...
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This master-work of yours, This magnum opus, This poiema, Is sat in his underpants In a neglected and untidy flat, Typing on a laptop he bou...
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