Profvarmapoetry

Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those 

who look through to guess about what is seen during the 

moment.

Carl Sandburg

I SLEEP

I sleep to leap over hours

But slip into the pit

Where the pendulum hangs

In silence ,perhaps tired

Of swinging, and singing

A monotonous song in silence  

Identification

They asked

for

An identification mark

I said

I had none

They stripped me naked

But found none

They branded me

With their burning seal

But

Only skin deep

Killer

We struggle

to kill time

But the killer

and the killed

are the same

A continuous game

For the sake of game.