Squeeze Poem by E.J. Langley
Squeeze
The feeling at the heart of things
is the infinite reality of poetry
It reasons the perspectives are boundless
and evasive to the page
While the muse may treat us to a phrase or two
the rest is fodder
and unworthy of the night
To squeeze every ounce of art from the page
crumple it in the palm
'till a single drop of blood is drawn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/10/2024 12:09:00 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Paper-cuts hurt worse when it's a poem that did it. I agree completely- -every poem starts with one kernel; sometimes it's a kernel of truth, sometimes it's just the seed of an idea. Love the poem!