A found poem based on steve brock's comments today, on the WeChat smashing poetry group
And as soon as i read it i turned it into a found poem:
03 -
the full stops slow
the poem down
each phrase becomes a
stationary cloud
Now that we are
slow we can
appreciate the
journey of the
ants. The mind and heart are
still. A cloud becomes some
thing we listen
to. The mind is an em
pty cup, recei
ving the wis
dom of t
he cloud.
Comments