Tuesday, December 8, 2009

The No-Paper Poem

Liszt
Trees and snow and all is light
Window, close yourself to me.
I must retreat to pages long
- I must turn off ethereal song.

Mind
Is malfunctioning tonight
It sees only things unreal.
Heavy eyes and instincts fought
- To sleep would be to triumph not.

Bed
Perfect bliss and all is right
What was written goes away.
Drift in cosmos without time
- Won't wake until rest is mine.