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  • Life

    untitled

     reaching back through memory,
    dredging through petrified thought
    hard and black as bones turned
    to stone,
    one can't help but feel the ache,
    the sodden weight,
    of emotion forever detached
    from the present. 

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    jonathonca’s Poems (8)

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