the poet

Check out this wicked poem by George Ellington.

George Ellington

The words, the power, the very syntax
of your verse delights me,
says the linguist in me.

The imagery flows like molten clouds
over my aging soul,
cries the artist in me.

Your rhythm reaches into my heart
and entices me to sing,
chants the musician in me.

The sensuality of your voice caresses
my pulsating skin,
moans the lover in me.

To be a poet is to passionately embrace
so many untold selves,
says the me longing to be.

[inspired by Lucy’s “The syntax of spring“]

Me almost looking cool in Turkey (Jan 1992)

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