room 254

I place my unblemished coffee cup

on the slate countertop;

 its thunderous din

sets off a fire alarm of contentious thoughts

that plague me,

but I pay no heed to them

for they are less real than the plots I conjure up;

therefore, I fold them neatly between napkins

 under the chilly placid morning

which breeds fear and uncertainty.

I open the door of fate and peer towards the steam

that billows forth upwards unimpeded:

 a manifestation of imaginative thoughts

representing each burst of light

 in and around, the periphery of our minds

that become contextualized and codified

 again…and again…

until at last we dissipate,

 and return hopefully_______

better than before.


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2 thoughts on “room 254

  1. I kept looking at this poem and thinking about the images that you fostered in my mind…at times it made me just smile and pounder how the fragrance of a warm cup of coffee on a winter’s day stirs one’s imagination.

  2. sparrowsong on said:

    i love the imagery you use to characterize thought flow. very masterful work!

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