Welcome to Popular Ink's INDELIBLE KITCHEN.

Now get the hell out!


Really, we would love to have you stay but we would feel rude about that as we have left. As in gone, defunct, kaput. We aren't here anymore. Sometimes, when it's late and we are worried about dying, we do believe in reincarnation. So, maybe we will live again. We'll let you know if that happens.

11.5.07

A New Poem by Felino Soriano

Vagabond's Vision #87

Modest moments
akin to almost nothingness,
pursuing an escape from cluttered attributes,
attributed to over-the-edge
pushing of saddening
murmurs.
Escape requires relinquishing desire.


Doors,
the more elaborate retain closure.
A gifted hand
spun coloristic yarn into gifts
bequeathing symphony atop
doorstep's hardened hand.

A boy ran smiling
across lengths of rhythmic flowing air,
allowing panoramic views
and
birds from elevated vantage points
organic reasons to caw chamomile
sounds in celebrated versions of
unclenching sadness.

-Felino Soriano

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

The thing I like about this poem is caw chamomile. You never hear those two words together.