When you left you left behind a fieldof silent flowers under a sky full of unstirred clouds...you left a million butterfliesmid-silky flutters You left like midnight rain against my dreaming ears Oh a...
I am bothered by poems I don't understand.
Vers libre, (free verse) or nine-tenths of it, is not a new metre any more than sleeping in a ditch is a new school of architecture.
From our solitudewe shall create,forge songs ,pour in the reflectionof the stars and refresh the mindabout the silk-ridden roads that wait for them who have forgotten to feel.