Poetry “My Original Face”

My Original Face

 By  

Gerardine Baugh

 

Carbon smudges, dancing across an uneven cave wall

 

Callused fingers, pressing blood into symbols

 

Movement within the pictures

 

Send me spiraling

 

Never stopping my need

 

To create

 

My original face is the one you see on paper

 

Or, smeared across a silicon link

 

I am nothing without my imagination

 

I press against the empty wall

 

With a need to be heard

 

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Published in: on March 2, 2009 at 6:18 am  Comments (8)  

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8 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. I absolutely loved this. And it’s strange because I just posted something similar to this in a forum today. I said that I feel like I don’t really attach myself to my body, like when I think about who I am as a person, my appearance is the last thing that comes to mind. It’s like, just a body that I am inside and I control. I identify myself with my thoughts, imagination, creativity, morals, beliefs, etc. That’s just what your poem reminded me of. Beautiful!

  2. Kristi, thank you. This poem has different levels for me, it sounds like you hit all of them.
    Gerardine


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