Across the river must be a fool
To say that without imagery
No poem is a poem
But how will I create an image
Of the good will I have in my heart
For you all
And the best wishes i expressed
For my love just yesterday?
The guy over the line
Across the web must be a crack
To say that without metaphor
In poems a poet can get the truth
But how could I believe a poem or him
When I find truth seven layers deep?
Another gal from another country
From an odd place from an awkward proposition
Must be a nut to say
As a poet I must be real in my poems
But how could I when I see
Reality has many dimensions
And people like her understand only one
Which is in black and white
Or Withered and discoloured
The coloured ones she takes as my imaginations
And blames me whereas she
Might be unrealistically colour blind
Once i was like her when i lacked love
My love taught me to imagine
To put colour a little bit
So that we can see each layer and
Understand every part
To make ourselves wise
To make our hard and mysterious life easy.