Children holding his
tablets, moving miniscule
planets. Forget my
past, he screams, slowly curing
needy pieces of dog fur.
Children holding his
tablets, moving miniscule
planets. Forget my
past, he screams, slowly curing
needy pieces of dog fur.
Compassion, Depression, Forgiveness, Isolation, Poems, Poetry, recovery, Tanka
This entry was posted on March 6, 2017, 7:29 am and is filed under Poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
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Stillfugue |
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Fiction, Poetry, Essays |
#1 by clinock on March 9, 2017 - 1:37 am
You are SUCH a Surrealist sometimes Carl…this is a painting of a poem (and the title has to be the very best ever!)…
#2 by Carl on March 10, 2017 - 6:22 am
You’re a kind man! I wish I could do a real painting, as you do so admirably! These surreal pictures smack me in the face like a space shuttle. As Einstein said, everything is a miracle (or nothing is).