NO METAPHOR FOR A POEM
Seema Gill
A trip on the Hammersmith line is no metaphor for a poem
A city pigeon accidentally climbs from the platform at Paddington Street
to find himself bewildered by the artist in blue streak
The pigeon with his bird mind has no language for a train station
A girl with elephant ear rings cuddles up on the seat opposite
Her heavy whiskey lips sings memories and Jamaica in her eyes twink
Like the cherry blossom tree loaded with psychedelic pink
The girl with ear rings is no headline for the hollywood movie shrink
As I pick up my green bag with images, metaphors fall lightly
on the ground beneath me and I walk in the crowd brightly
The dark tunnel opens up in mind with unstructured poem sup
I walk as if I’m in heaven, watching a psychedelic storm in a cup
No comments:
Post a Comment