the Others

A poem that some might find abstract, yet most of my writing is filled with metaphors.

I AM

what I have never been,
and a quarter of what I was
supposed to Be
through me Die,
just to be Re-born
again

vibrations of later times!

I am an album
in which
a dead PRIMA-DONNA

Gave me

a Postum symphony

The fountains of my scribbles
hold nothing but stale water
For the thirsty ones
with ancient memories
0f timeless spaces

for they are the Ones,

Not me.


Bela

Copyright 2017