Poem
James Cummins
from WARBLER
from WARBLER
from WARBLER
speakingfrom between
remnants
or something
or other
to follow the moment
to transform
to touch
to turn
to mark
lingering beyond of solitude
utterance
– succumb in the midst of it all –
light and shadows
containing visions
evolving through
linear constructs
stopping//momentarily
beyond expectation
– breathing is a function of the imagination –
motioning w/
dry lips
converging
in tooth
in the space
between speech
forsaking the difference
restricting
direct light
through voice
an illusion
through stillness
hand
to face
to page
stroke – stroke the indent
beyond
a fixed
sense of
turbulence
evenly spread
before dawn
before sleeping
to evening
to waking
a moment
still in transit
splice
skin
+ eyes
+ all
trembling lips
+ voice
+ one
beyond
screen
each new eclipse
beyond mouth
+ eyes
outputting internal
dialogs
– trapped in a kind of circle –
Morphing
w/ soft
supple
splendour
directing
line
against the
white
porcelain
forming liquid
on tender
hooks
+ lips
light
folding
drifting
through registers
through illuminations
through empty
skyless rooms
© 2009, James Cummins
From: Warbler
Publisher: Default Publishing, Cork
From: Warbler
Publisher: Default Publishing, Cork
Poems
Poems of James Cummins
Close
from WARBLER
speakingfrom between
remnants
or something
or other
to follow the moment
to transform
to touch
to turn
to mark
lingering beyond of solitude
utterance
– succumb in the midst of it all –
light and shadows
containing visions
evolving through
linear constructs
stopping//momentarily
beyond expectation
– breathing is a function of the imagination –
motioning w/
dry lips
converging
in tooth
in the space
between speech
forsaking the difference
restricting
direct light
through voice
an illusion
through stillness
hand
to face
to page
stroke – stroke the indent
beyond
a fixed
sense of
turbulence
evenly spread
before dawn
before sleeping
to evening
to waking
a moment
still in transit
splice
skin
+ eyes
+ all
trembling lips
+ voice
+ one
beyond
screen
each new eclipse
beyond mouth
+ eyes
outputting internal
dialogs
– trapped in a kind of circle –
Morphing
w/ soft
supple
splendour
directing
line
against the
white
porcelain
forming liquid
on tender
hooks
+ lips
light
folding
drifting
through registers
through illuminations
through empty
skyless rooms
From: Warbler
from WARBLER
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