sub-conscious with sub-conscious
reveling champagne in hand
dreams whirling round the dreamer
chance and probability
outdone:
outdone we humans
outdone our brain
however
though
I be a thinker:
the tangles are too fast, too deep
they dance
too deep they cut
into the white of brain
and the thin pencil lines of blood
seep through the convolutions of the brain
tangles of leaves and restless nights
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem