An Idea of Order
Some poems are very straight forward
I have an idea in mind and via a series
Of conjured thrusts I’m able to express it
Either clearly or necessarily abstruse
For example, the kind of poem
Where you almost get the sense
I’m trying to tell you
I love you but when you read it again
The words aren’t there
Another kind of poem pries
At the essence of love
Pre-configuring the existence
Of us. Do plants love
When turned toward the sun?
Is it neurotransmitters alone?
Would it count if you could
Take it as a pill?
Would you really want to?
The deepest kind of poem
Gets lost in its own darkness.
Down here defines "absence of light"
Nothing you write will ever be seen
And no one is allowed to speak.
In this place the love is so heavy
It sinks straight to the bottom.
What rises to the surface
Is what’s left of the poem
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