I find I repeat my mind to complete
my unfinished thoughts. I repeat my mind,
my unfinished thoughts. I find I repeat
to complete my unfinished thoughts, I find.
There’s something about the ring of doubt
that sounds in alarm. That sound, there’s something
that sounds in alarm. There’s something about
the doubt that sounds in alarm, about the ring.
The clear thoughts vanish from here, I banish
them to history. I banish the clear
thoughts to history, from here they vanish.
Clear thoughts banished to history from here.
I find I repeat my mind to forget
that my thoughts, my mind, are meant to regret.
I am the best thing you've never heard of.
I hold a Bachelor's in English, History and Secondary Education, and a Master's in English: Creative Writing, though my appearance belies intelligence.
My goal in life is to write and to be read. It's a modest stretch by most imaginations.
To most I'm amazing.
It all depends on your definition of literary merit.
All poems contained on this blog are ©Thomas Boersma unless otherwise noted.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Poem-A-Day: Day 224
Sonnet #52 (I Often Repeat Myself)
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