Monday, 7 February 2011

Guitarman (Sonnet 12)

Tune yourself into all that is around
your world to your small smiling desire
no matter so whatever it may be
it will matter whatever it may be.
Write yourself onto leaves upon the ground
buried in the snow covering the grass
hidden in the dirt frozen from the sun
in the moonlight. (whatever it may be)
Play yourself slowly and faster with sound
echoing your small smiling desire
off of walls inside your head through your mouth.
Matter vibrates while your voice compliments.
Whatsoever it may be, it's matter.
So whatever be it may, it matters.

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