Free Verse and William Wordsworth

Words at Will

aligned under hyperspace within the context of whim

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Turbulence is chic
when italics cap matrices
worked, worded, spoken
to Wordsworth with the keys
molded, holed, and guttural
under fingertips. Acrylic,
apple candy, and filed to fastidiousness
owned, blurted, renowned…

As is a landscape to a blind man’s eye

we roam as characters on a page
of grasses, willows, sky, and wind.

The air and Romanticism,
— his ‘beauteous forms —
meld with the chip
pounded in letters spaced
like Limbo for the Anunaki
aligned under hyperspace
within the context of whim.

Her feeling, rendered more compassionate

I regurgitate and harken cubistic
some wherewithal untold
shrine to the thoughts of a poet
within the pages of anthology
dogeared, flipped through, and discarded