gravity

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gravity

caught up in the cross

of warm tractor beams

shot from the whirling

and deepening twins

 

from black holes within

that pull at my soul

escape is futile -

i let myself fall

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Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

Sleeves’s Poems (23)

Title Comments
Title Comments
memories 0
album 0
turquoise 1
delusion 0
cold 1
wife 0
imprinted 0
sepia 2
emerge 1
gravity 0
Two haikus 0
Strips 7
The lone wheat 3
Life that never was 3
Tide 4
I awake 5
Lúthien 5
Gone with the whales 2
Picture 3
Perfect looks 2
You, here 3
Scarred 5
Fade 1