Caterpillars

It seems listening to Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman is having a very copy cat effect on my own writing. I like trying to imitate his style which is as I explained in previous posts always sounds to me like someone ruminating. It's the sort of poetry that when I read it I imagine how it sounds. Alot of that how it sounds, has worked it's way into this poem.

For me I wrote this from a place of hope and condemnation. In a sense I was condemning the same attitudes I had when I wrote Lillies.

I think perhaps my thoughts are colored now with the notion that yes, we may lose relationships but there is something we never lose and it's not just the memories.

That connection is there like a power point before you switch it on all the potential is still all there. It doesn't magically change and go one day things develop but that part of a person you may have shared in days or years past is still part of them as much as it is part of you.

I don't know about you readers, but I kinda love that thought and I'm going to hold onto it for a while longer.

So now you know what the inspiration was you can use it when reading Caterpillars or honestly just enjoy the flow of words from line to line. Poetry is like a relationship it's different every single time and with every single person, but that I reckon is what makes it interesting!

CATERPILLARS

What is more fickle than the wind
What writhes and Exists floating
Dull in the shadows of dreams
And which the consensus of the masses sound?
it's tune that ugliness in the pale dark that mirthless sound similiar to bones snapping and breaking
Ashes to ashes dust to dirt and then to the worms
A wheel of broken unbroken and then rebroken
but imagine instead a
Line connecting hearts running through memories and branching off like caterillars crawling through arteries leaving behind their mucus which stays thick on the arterial walls long after it passes
I tell you this
there is no cycle no wheels just one mode of being along the paths the caterpillars weave and along the spans of ages times thoughts and memories.