Posted in Poems, Uncategorized


I sit with joy

delighting in sweet savour

with eyes captured by enhancing imagery

unknowingly throwing movements

it is my clumsiness.


Fixated upon media

and blinding trying to reach my surroundings

I do not try to evade

for it is my clumsiness.


Using my left hand

and when I fail the other

I cannot look at what I destroy

it’s in my nature, my clumsiness.


When I reach, I shake

and when I can’t, I’m impulsive

when it drops, I weep

when it’s fallen, I stare

it will always be my clumsiness.


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