Monday, May 10, 2010

lost people by Jim Wittenberg

it’s the poetry of lost
we’re looking for
we don’t need to look for the poetry
of anyone we’ve already found

their words are accessible
they’re so abundant we trip
over them like tripping over rocks
on an unpaved road

the poetry of lost people
is like air
it disappears before we touch it

-- offbeatjim

PLEASURE by Subhankar Das


Who wants to recover

As if to get back to the normal state

The sharpness of the smoke that burns the eyes will abate

Will the heart call all the birds and talk

Deliver a great speech about the usefulness of a heavy wing

All the muscles of the leg will one day know

all the artistry of a failed flight

As the white of the teeth becomes familiar with the

free and easy parched-peas like this

Ages passed on account of prestige and

position or weight and importance just like a dog

As the fear and the whiteleciousness pry at every step they

cannot get familiar

or knowing everything to enjoy defeat they munch on time

This very pleasure he also knew halogen lights lie like the moonlight

The accounts of the day are drying up

and we have decorated all sides with wings

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