Poetry “My Original Face”

My Original Face


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


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.

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