And still I remain in the old dream,
though I wonder if it’s a riddle,
a water line, not low, not high —
but actually an arrow pointing
around to a negative zero —
where everything is another thing
as I wake up in this cast iron tub
startled by the self-portraits
that people my dream in disguises,
and the water has gone cold now,
and that also is a clock with meaning.
Thank you for reading this new and once again revised poem in my sponsored poem series
This sponsored poem was inspired by a recently released song by Carrie Beehan and some other clues she gave me, though it turned out to have nothing to do with her concept at all, which may be something this poem is about in itself, or will be. I've now cut out the entire inner 4 verses, which were trying to retain what I was given, but it all had to go. That will become a different poem. I really can't predict where these poems will go, so there is risk in getting involved in my poetry in that way. But isn't that fun? Throw me some ideas and see how I take them in some "God Awful" direction(God Awful being a metaphysical construct?)
Below: An image of the piano-paper encaustic collage ME LOVE, which ended up titling the poem. There is text in the paper which reads bottom to top.