Monday, 12 December 2011

Touched


I look at my child and existentially ask where does she come from?
I look at my painting, my poem and my song and ask where does it come from?


Energy surges below my navel and electricity runs down my spine
Is it all god breathed in the creative space of nothingness?

Between the arrangements of coffee and digital network technology I smoke,
At this moment I am looking out onto the savannah and type you this message,

A notifier goes off into the four corners of the globe and I am in awe

Mach 3 bullet space!
Lightening speed that missions

I yearn to get my intention out to you as it burns through the optic fibre
You touched me...out of the intangible universe of neurons, synapse, wiring and transformers

you touched me by your poem!

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