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07/11/14

by Uriel Tovar

I stare at this blank page
Waiting for it to
Transform into
Something amazing
That I can be proud of
A work that will withstand
The winds of time
But all I can do
Is bleed ink into
The sea of white
And watch as
Purity turns black.

07/11/2014

Posted on 07/11/2014
Copyright © 2024 Uriel Tovar

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 07/12/14 at 12:23 PM

wonderful ode, Uriel. Michelangelo said, there is no such thing as a blank piece of anything, given that everything which is appearing lifeless and unsubstantial is actually rich in life and substance and is merely seeking the emergence of the artist poet who in actuality is an archaeologist of sorts to bring it out, ( which you have ) liberate it from such a state as it appears blank which it is not, and what appears blank on the surface is merely the top layer to the countless layers that remain beneath discovery.

Posted by Felicia Aguilar on 08/01/14 at 11:46 AM

I love the imagery in this, Uriel. The last three lines, especially.

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