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Now poets...
by Timothy SomersProvoke me,
Invoke me
to rise.
Light the incandesent burning,
incessant yearning,
of life to the very seams
of my soul with the
gestures
acts,
and
life in consequence of dreams,
unfelt,
unlived,
unsaid,
in racous public company.
Unsaid-unlived
Unsung.
Shards of personalities.
Reams of contrabilities.
Myriads abound,
should you simply,
Provoke me,
invoke me.
Word me.
Herd me,
to rise.
to rise.
06/16/2006 Author's Note: Well?
Posted on 06/17/2006
Copyright © 2025 Timothy Somers
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Ronald A Pavellas on 06/17/06 at 06:45 AM oh, tim... it's too early in the morning. first coffee, then inspiraton, then provocation. excellent poem, nonetheless. |
| Posted by Ronald A Pavellas on 06/17/06 at 06:45 AM oh, tim... it's too early in the morning. first coffee, then inspiraton, then provocation. excellent poem, nonetheless. |
| Posted by Deborah Breuer on 10/11/06 at 11:30 PM quite the challenge tim...I might be up to it but I guess you'd have to tell me. Wink Wink.
Thanks for the poke,
Debbie |
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