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Thursday, October 11, 2018

Poetry #1

I want to create

I feel the ideas, the emotions,
bubbling, boiling, ready to burst
from my mind, my chest,
and they do, spewing from my mouth,
landing on the table, running down to the floor,
a soupy mess that no one understands.

How do I give them form,
these thoughts,
take the tohu vavohu
and order it.
I speak, but my word is not made flesh,
in the minds of my audience.

One more distinction between me and God.

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