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Bare Nibs

The poetry and prose of John Webber

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Below you can find some quick links to some of my writing and other interesting places.

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Poetry

 

Mirror


Miro lies in bed, on his side
hungry in Paris;
the Montparnasse horses
clop cobbles
outside of his walls,
his father, the watchmaker
tick-tocks in his head,
his mother of gold
waits to enter his dreams.

But no, he won’t sleep
just yet,
there’s work to be done;
he turns on his back,
stretches automaton arms
upwards, stares at his hands,
spiders in darkness.

A passing light
gives him food
that he craves,
the canvas above
will receive
all his patterns,
the dots and the lines
the crescents of ages,
the collages, fabric and
cubes of his landscape
of Spain
in front of his eyes
as he drifts
into sleep
and dreams
of a patchwork of bread.

He wakes and wishes
that paintings could be
so exactly
3D
as he saw
just hours ago.

Croissants and coffee,
Watches and gold,
Fragments now
In the cold new day.


Copyright Bare Nibs 2009

 

 

 

 

 

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