Angele Toomey Poetry

Today I have two poems – not because I am boastful or greedy – they arrived in quick succession on the same page, so it felt wrong to separate them. They also didn’t have names until I realised that they were about words and ideas – how they are formed and what we do with them in a linear time universe.

Words

Carbon shaped over sequested carbon

Adding to other ideas already in stasis

Holding imprecise symbolic meaning

To be hung on a wall,

Hidden in a drawer,

Or thrown away with the other detritus

of a life barely half-lived.

Created as digitised ink would not alter their fate

Even the bits and bytes degrade

And crumble.

Falling into an ever smaller world of

powdered sandstone and forgotten love.

Ideas

The best I can hope for is a fired neuron

A temporary reaction

In your imagination

That will quickly dissipate

Along with all the fragments of

Ideas only ever half developed –

The symbols I fought to embed

And that you never saw.