|
recycle
by Julie Adams
recycled ideas
on recycled paper
cling like wet mache
sopping over a heap
of leftover possibilities,
left behind,
cold wet and homeless
peculiar sort we are
to rumage and dig
probing the past
like archeologists
our mental word detectors
electrified
our own formulas,
concoctions of evolutionary chemistry,
these words jumble, swap
mismatch, side-effects--many
but sometimes
post reading ramblings
mumble and murmur and linger
on layers of the brain
and long to unfurl
alongside experience all your own
their protestations
apocalyptic, if only when in vain
cause me to jump, move, do
something
septic, sometimes in creation
dying for creation, Buddha-like
seeking truth
in words like
Emily and Wilde and Shaw
truth in their creation
their processes
their pulse
understanding
the recycle factor
within, without any proof
but words
12/27/2004 Author's Note: there is a lot in my head, this spun out a few weeks ago, I have surveyed the aftermath, and this is what I found...
Posted on 12/27/2004
Copyright © 2025 Julie Adams
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/27/04 at 09:27 PM I like your version too Julie, though slightly different as applied to writing, and noticed you also used the words within and without...neat what two different minds can come up with under the same title/banner! |
|
