I don't write, I paint myself blind with words...diogenes herded...ignorance...gilded cages...filling up on beauty unleashed...free will's maddening fractures...eyes that need to smell to see...
February 2, 2016
the torque crazed trojan horse gravity of human bones...
the torque crazed trojan horse gravity of human bones
I believe I have been
mostly, part of the rain
sometimes, hidden
in the cycle of grasses too...
while this life is
mostly, of a poet
molded clay wean river
wanting down
from the sky
mountains in shale reaches
just like life is when
turning toward the Sun
I have also been
warm Spring onions
kelp swaying insistent
inside the rest of those
thin verdant fingers
harvesting heat from dying
roots once composed
of reaching through maybe(s)...
are souls exposing vulnerable(s)
in need of bones
in order to wear scent
skin and flesh, though firstly
very furtively, within the throes
of Winter readying its own end...
-------------------------
groundhog shadows
and light merchant opportunists
are perched on the escarpments
on the high side of the Hudson, too...
Brigid knows to begin the tide
with her knowledge of scent
tells us to start to eat through
the last of Winter’s decay...
poems here, show up unseen
no wholes wholly hold
each piece of us
put back together
by our soul's desire
for what eggs mean...
-------------------------
in a Spring time, ago
Humpty Dumpty told me...
"that come soon
Beltane Maypole
twining(s) bale, is silk
and boon to bane weather
a founders' causeway fire
that knows hearts kneading hope
are dangerous things
left unattended with time
they ghost the eons
stick to the wind
carving ring after ring
mostly trees remember
to pay respect...
reminds me though
once, I attended
Persephone's annual
recollection-with-fondness-her-love-of-Hades-feast
it was a complete wedding reprisal
dancing blacksmiths
an alchemist and witch
drawing circle after circle
of forged mechanical claims
they repeated names upon
each destiny, the bones
they threw in articulation, said
they had already
given Lilith and
her mighty womb..."
EJR ©
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I love the image of the swaying kelp.. Wish I could be that sometimes.
ReplyDeleteThank You for saying so and yeah me too, there is a mesmerizing grace to their movements...something akin to when I stared at those early apple2E, fractal screen savers...
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DeleteI was completely entranced by this poem. Well penned!!
ReplyDeleteMille grazie...!
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ReplyDeleteAnd it led to another, so thank you for saying such and your wielding a deft touch of the universe according to you...
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DeleteA seemingly dark poem but the warmth of spring onions suggests other! Very striking images.
ReplyDeleteAstutely seen...lucky to witness four seasons(most times) to me there is an enveloped darkness just as Spring is readying its entrances...thank you
DeleteI like the direction you took with this prompt!
ReplyDeleteGratitude...!
DeleteLight and dark are found here. There is a grace to your poem that is lovely.
ReplyDeleteThank you for saying such!...sometimes luck wears the music...
DeleteWow. This spill of words pleases me to the center of my poetic soul.
ReplyDelete"wanting down
from the sky"
...is my favorite.
Thank You, I like to imagine being threaded to the cycle of water here on Earth...
Delete"I have also been
ReplyDeletewarm Spring onions
kelp swaying" Oh what a striking thought.
Gratitude...! I'm a crow seeking shiny things I suppose : ^ )...
DeleteI feel you pulled from eons past, and showed us a glimpse of your previous incarnations...so diverse, from swaying kelp to poet. I so enjoyed this!
ReplyDeleteThank You for saying so...much appreciated...an easy flowing kind of music that seemed to mostly write itself...perhaps it was merely a keen prompt, vetted to those moments when we are letting go of form in order to try and get ourselves to feel something beneath wanting to know who, what and where, we are, most times...
Deletethe smell of spring onions, swaying kelp...like music of nature. The first stanza just rocked me to the core...incredible.
ReplyDeleteThere are a lot of favourites of mine in the piece - but I like the beginning most.
ReplyDelete"I believe I have been
mostly, part of the rain
sometimes, hidden
in the cycle of grasses too"
Thanks for joining my prompt - I am genuinely sorry for being so late in my visit to you.
Birth of water whole
ReplyDeletefrom start of Ocean
womb.. sailor's
deliGht oF
what we
were
underwater..
never sinkIng
shore..
finally
crawling out..
be the
water
whole again..:)