I think I’m finished. <br />My mind aches <br />With Ovid and Plath <br />How interchangeable <br />With Glück and Hall <br />How intertwined <br />In truth <br />This easy breath <br />Of philosophies <br />This seamless exchange <br />Of porcelain expressions <br />And chandelier words <br />And things and <br />Summer lovers <br />And yellow trees <br />Of quick embrace and war. <br />The phrases upon <br />Phrases <br />Long and unbroken <br />Varied and cultured <br />To figures of truth. <br />All truth. <br /> <br />Every syllable of rhyme <br />As crafted and formed <br />Reads modestly as truth. <br />All truth. <br /> <br />How sterling the voices <br />How commanding <br />Demanding, attaching <br />To the rings of my retina <br />How black and white <br />And deep inside my lies <br />My mind aches, dear reader. <br /> <br />I apologize for this weakness <br />Never found in other poets <br />Of the wisest form— <br />Never entering their art. <br />I’m humbled by the diversion <br />Of my patterned muses. <br /> <br />Oh, my mind ache. <br />To find the wisdom <br />Is truly the poem.<br /><br />Masiela Lusha<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-mind-aches/
