BROKEN

In a state of daydreams

The fine porcelain plate slipped

From the poet’s fingers

Plagued by sudden lameness

And fell to the tiled kitchen

Floor

Shattering into a pattern

That showed distorted faces

In an inner turmoil fight.

Not moving the plate

Until he made a sketch of

The shards

He sat down at his nearby

Desk and made a drawing

His mind with flashbacks

Of bygone creative peaks.

The dream of loving another

Human being

Like a sculptural density of

Molecules

Who’ll never understand

Each other

But create unusual art

By controversial frottage.

The poet’s inner world broken

With exception of his Muse

Who glued together all the

Pieces with her love

Made life between these

Contrasting spouses

Bearable again for some

Extended time.

Don Pullen’s solo piano

Sounded on a ship that

Sailed the deep ravines

Of hurt

In a miniature odyssey

Reflecting on great poetry.

Soft cold rain fell and rendered

The split up portions of land

In its colourful conglomeration

Which once formed one

Great continent

Shattered by Zeus’ bolt

Out of a perfectly blue sky.

BROKEN.NEKORB

zoltanzelan

ZJG-POetry’19.

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