Wednesday, January 13, 2010

January

Sometimes,
I think that I’m much like a teapot,
Or rather
That my mind is much like a teapot,
Maybe perhaps even a
Little
Teapot- short, stout and suitable for holding and pouring.

Sometimes,
At moments when I think this analogy
Is especially apt.
I think that maybe,
Perhaps,
All of my thoughts, creativity, arguments and intellect
(the PG tips of the brain)
Have been poured out.

Sometimes,
Or rather, this time
I’m afraid that what makes I!
Is gone.
This creative, vital, song of a person
Has been emptied out
Into your cup
And all that is left
Is a ceramic pot