between the eye and the paper
hovers a space of nonentity.

hands anesthetize
for newfangled poetry.

stint of motionless body
like a trance deeper than me.

no randomness, no spontaneity—

letters, bleak to find words.
collapsing in barren savannah.

all thoughts in hollowness,



About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to savannah

  1. I feel this…’the hollowness’ sometimes. Thanks for liking my posts. I appreciate your visits.

  2. Yeah – a not nice feeling – I wonder if you wrote this when you were feeling this way, or later?

  3. Melanie says:

    i really like the choice of words that you use! 🙂

  4. nightlake says:

    interesting poem..expresses bleakness very well..

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