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‘THE POET ‘ / ‘THE REIGN ‘ / ‘GROWING PAINS ‘ / ‘JANICE’ | four poems by Ant Mac

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Read Time:2 Minute, 46 Second

The Poet

Pencils scrape and carve
to create art.
Pens leave lifelines as they bleed.
Keys work to obscure light and play tricks of illusion,
shape the mood and lay before you a representation
in the shadow of another's imagination.
Thoughts are projected onto a paper canvass
or a screen
or mirror
hoping others will recognise and reflect
like the tattoo that is watched as it blurs and fades over time.
Presenting an image of one's former self
within, its identity and aspirations.

Open to criticism, we display vivid colours and opinions, insights and observations.
Words scream and letters whisper.
The discourse is played out in both secret and public, though few would read,
listen or care to understand.
Voices speak in the background to form and shape subliminal messages
using a language that circulates and resonates while increasing in volume
until it can no longer be ignored or contained.

Read me
hear me
see me.
All is a door that is open.
Oh pens,
pens will beckon
you in.

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