Poems
flow through
as rivers
without moving
with flergs of insight,
scurrying.
flowing
the bed load
and the water
stand still
with fish
and paddlers
inanimate,
suspended.
But yet
gets us wet.
Rivers
of thought
living
but forever
plotted on a map
unchanging with time
Where is the flerg,
transformed?
Flergs of insight
are only ever good as
the signs of times
with which
they're mapped?
We are the Orionides
which are the Sirians
whom are the Solarians,
but how do their maps
interprete and interprelate!
Scurrying,
paddlers inanimate
unchanged with time
sign the times
with maps unchanged
but we are Solarians
with lives our own
flow through
as rivers
without moving
with flergs of insight,
scurrying.
flowing
the bed load
and the water
stand still
with fish
and paddlers
inanimate,
suspended.
But yet
gets us wet.
Rivers
of thought
living
but forever
plotted on a map
unchanging with time
Where is the flerg,
transformed?
Flergs of insight
are only ever good as
the signs of times
with which
they're mapped?
We are the Orionides
which are the Sirians
whom are the Solarians,
but how do their maps
interprete and interprelate!
Scurrying,
paddlers inanimate
unchanged with time
sign the times
with maps unchanged
but we are Solarians
with lives our own