For April Poem A Day, I have decided to post to Writer’s Island and to go off prompts for the month, for the most part, and delve into poetry I’ve written over the past couple of years that has yet to see the light of day.

The Man Who Became An Island

Withholding his thoughts;
withdrawing day by day, floating away toward the sea

She stood by, calling him back away from shore,
back to this world,
the real world.

But he was “expanding from within,”
convinced that no one else could comprehend
his power, his vision, his wisdom.

“You are all ants,” he proclaimed,
“scurrying around a hill, dragging crumbs,
while I am destined for a higher purpose.”

He pulled in every corner of his being and
drew it around him into a cocoon of bizarre grandeur.

An island.

And later, as psychosis grabbed him by the throat,
a whole ‘nother planet.

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil