Could I but find the white hole in the paper again
I’d event with it and write to no end,
but my mind is circling ever as an endless spring
’round its own ingrown functioning, never
ceasing except to cry out its own name.
This is a space for me to write, share my words and play with poetry. You are very welcome here.
He started Writing, The paper started speaking...
Looking for horror? ...Come in.
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MariaKoe
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wisdom and madness and folly
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Everyone is welcome
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to a great mind, nothing is little - Sherlock Holmes
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Indian and Fusion Cooking Classes
...with a twist
Love this, Uttley! That opening line is a stunner!
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Nice description of the mind circling an “ingrown function” crying its own name. It looks like it wants to be able to start over with some white space on the paper.
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the immaculate tabula rasa…
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“Event with it”. . . interesting use of the word as verb. How many nights have I spent with my mind “circling as an endless spring”, but that’s when the best midnight epiphanies occur! Love your words!
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It seems like efforts made in vain.
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