Contemporary Art By Artist: Andrew Nawroski

Strange Whispers.

Sometimes Whispering
I hear voices
not normal voices
I see them whispering
when I lay down
a clicking finger sound
travels around me
then loud whispers say
time to wash all meadow’s.
One eye is dilated
Staring at my wall
I blink and see more whispers
There are 3,042 hairs
On my left hand
I count them every night
With my dilated eye
and fall to sleep.
Waking I hear more whispers
Gentle soft whispers
Coming from corners or walls
They follow me about
Then stop whispering
I can’t find them
But they soon come.
I hear them in a city
Coming from windows or doors
As I hear them
They grow in size
Whistling me over
Beckoning like virgin prostitutes.
In deep resonant country
They come and follow me
From field corners
Or fallen tree’s
As I listen they seem stronger
and sometimes I see them
Making colour shapes
They shoot forward
Silently through my body
Then start whispering
I try to hear words when they begin
But there are many
All jumbled up
Occasionally I make out some words
Short sentences louder
And they hurt my ears
I want to tell someone
But find I cannot
Maybe I’m insane.


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