Good evening once again my friends. Welcome to another edition of Friday Night Poetry Corner. What a year eh? More so with the crazy weather patterns we have been seeing up here in DC, good grief. What’s next? Winstring??
OK, that was corny so lets let own with it…
Continuing with Women’s History Month, the corner is featuring a wonder, poet name Sawako Nakayasu. Her poetry is just hauntingly good. Very sensual yet real–too real. The name of the feature poem for tonight is called “Morning Song.” Please follow the link on her name and enjoy more sweet written word. Oh yeah, honor all the women in your family, especially the one that raise you 🙂
Every time, these days, it seems, an equation gets forced. Forged:
and every morning sticks, figure A, for alas, stick figures, it
figures that we awaken in the same rectangle at different points on the time
line, these every days the sum of all our
angles, a beyond-complementary
rate, exceeding three hundred sixty, then three hundred sixty-five, three
days, and angles, a supersaturated moon. Also it is morning
and I am far
from and I cry.
The last ditch grows deeper and I stuff the
world into a quadratic of words, for example: But-I-love-you.
That’s four against three. Far against which cry.