Hypothesis Of A Waste Basket

The waste basket

has become a wasteland

an overflowing graveyard

of broken ballpoints

pencils of blunt desire

and crumpled 

paper planes of poems

crashed and left to burn

wisdom is found

amongst this mass of mess

in its reams of broken dreams

and emotions emptied

in waterfalls of words

that evaporate under lamplight

into invisible verse

unreadable

and the heart concludes;

that when a poem and poet dies

for want of trying

and longing eyes

or from ignorance that slights

the flowing pen

it’s perhaps time

to then

learn to write in hieroglyphs 

simple stylish symbols

flowing fluorescent

to even the blind of sight

by night

for there is bound

to be an Egyptian somewhere

to caress the vacant ego

and understand the mind

or many

like most 

who will just like looking

at the pretty pictures.

Reviews

[Kelly Scheppers]

"...with crumpled paper planes of poems
crashed and left to burn..."

I cannot believe this hasn't garnished a single review yet. I loved your hypothesis. Never thought of writing an ode to a waste basket. Perhaps all I needed was a little incentive, and here it came... from France! So good to meet you, Renata! Impressive writing!

[Renata]

Thank you kindly, Kelly. Your words are thoughtful and appreciated.

[D. Mansfield]

i agree with Kelly, this is a nugget. I love it

[Renata]

Thank you, D. Mansfield.