One of the many things I love about writing poetry is its riddle sense. Usually the idea for a piece begins with something that intrigues me. And if something intrigues me, I create in my mind a moving picture about that challenging something to try making (some) sense of it, attempting to see it “functioning”.

Twisting its withering body around a peculiar musicality, this poem is one of those “films”.

“Head-heart, heart-head, hard-head, “Stop! You’re human, no doubt!”, they shout.

“BA-HAAAAAAA!”, “No! Please! You’re human!”, “BA-HAAAAAAA!”

Half-dead, drowning hollow, weak, killing his kind, sending others for slaughter”

(Single Poem: 856 words, 69 lines)