This Turning
what one says
depends not on
words the wind
begins it does
not end but
lends itself to
an end this
turning may be
an answer the
sound of intent
so concealed a
word displayed is
only a word
not an end
nor the beginning
Another oldie from the eighties. It seems that even my poetry was thinner then.
I like what you were going for. Even, confuse, if, understand.
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Thanks very much!
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Splendid! Slender but full of suggestion … that image of gears conjures up my inner gears … always spinning (grinding at times) in response to some other gearing force (perhaps the elusive wind) … comfort in the notion that whatever word my inner gears crank out will be neither the end nor the beginning of … well, for sure of the inner spinning (and possibly a scope much broader).
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My gears seem to grind constantly, but they never quite stop moving!
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Jazz Jaeschke’s comment and a re-reading…this time spending more time looking as well! …at the ancient work – we here today now may say The Eighties with the reverence once reserved for a similar 80s of two centuries past in a grandparent’s tales, make this nostalgia-piece a door opening to a man willing to shed a slight pun at slimness on the page or person. With that I can empathize. With the poem I must do more. What a wonderful work, so open ended and so many sides and slides. Thanks, Robert, for the resurrectional sharing. – J Richards
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The 80s were both eye and door opening to this young poet!
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Reblogged this on Commentary, Outrages, Prose and commented:
Robert Okaji’s ‘O at the Edges’ blog always is a place of wonder and for many reasons.
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You are always so kind! Thank you, JR.
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My pleasure, both to read and to comment and to share on FB and Twitter.
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