Oil Spill
Because stillness is too stale
To be fresh,
Find peace by the water
And bring your own ripples
Pollute the silence with the stench
Of your meaning
And burn bridges where they’ve never been built
No blueprints to confine you
With boundaries and dimensions
Just you
Your hand
And fixed silence
Ready to be broken with the sound
Of waves crashing against shores
Blackened and brilliant,
With being
Spilling out into a sea
Too past to be present
Where ‘was’ needs to be ‘is’
Because tense is stressed
Overworked and underpaid
In search for a replacement,
You
So touch your reflection,
Teach it to misbehave
To rebel against the stillness
And make motion
Where it’s comfortable
To stand calm
👁 4💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.