| The Poetry of Richard Sansom Published by The British Sansom Society |
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| The Eyes Of all the human features, it is the eye ball, the eye ball, that is not so different as to make us different, and the rest of us, our skin, our size, our language, our country our past, our hopes, our beliefs and our fingers around triggers, these do not matter ---- it is the eye ball, singular, round, pure, and the two entry ways to the human core that sits waiting for the connection, and they are there, if we but see the eyes, catch the eyes, hold the eyes, never let go of the eyes, align one’s own definite moment, one’s planted reality in the space and time of what the four eyes do in the traveling messages that have no words but only the ancient, golden, toxic and life-giving bolt that moves between the eyes like the brightest light one can imagine, like the shooting energies they say emanates from black holes, or the searing lights from atomic explosions, or the light of a single candle in a dark cave, amid the strongest storm that might destroy the rest of the world --- it is the eyes that connect us. |
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