Now we come to the last piece of collaborative poetry done for this project. It was done with Paul Enea, a poet that I have admired for many years. He often uses plain, simple language to create beautiful poems that are complex, using his own style to enhance the words into duplicitous creatures with layered character. Stay tuned, because you will want to see his revision of our piece...
I can't wait to remember
all the things I've forgotten
over the years, to recover
the bygone moments that still matter
to a bone weary old man
memories warm the blood
or chill the heart if there's a dark
reason I forgot myself.
A hall of doors, all shut, rattling
some energy, begging for release
from solitude. Time regurgitates
memory, makes it a mess.
I wait like a child for someone
to lift the stains of past deeds
or meet me in a car the night
I ride the pipe and spill from prison.
Something out there waits for me,
it may just be a patch of dug-up earth
in a flowerless graveyard for innocent
inmates remembered by no one.
I am so intrigued by the multiple directions these pieces have taken. But how there are certain similarities in them. I am excited to see all of the rewrites
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