Monday, 5 November 2018

1 Poem by Stephen Mead

He Fills The Window

like a bath, reflections
spreading, but still
quite there.
I like to know
he can hold those contours
even when just standing
watering plants or looking
out, not even touching
what becomes a throne.
I like to know
there's this one slot
in the universe
for him especially, neither
one of them owning
the other but
forming a relation
spatial &, somehow,
     very close


Bionote

A resident of NY, Stephen Mead is an Outsider multi-media artist and writer.  Since the 1990s he's been grateful to many editors for publishing his work in print zines and eventually online.  He is also grateful to have managed to keep various day jobs for the Health Insurance.  In 2014 he began a webpage to gather links of his poetry being published in such zines as Great Works, Unlikely Stories, Quill & Parchment, etc., in one place: Poetry on the Line, Stephen Mead For links to his other media (and even merchandise if you are interested) please feel free to Google Stephen Mead Art.

No comments:

Post a comment