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jonathan-lundbergPoems
There are beetles on my skin Attacking my bark With pincers sharp -trying to get in And as they cover me Head to toe in a blanket of living death They tickle in bitter giggles At my senses, set ablaze By their exo-skeletal steps I do not build a scream For the sound would die out in between The sheet of beetles And my trodden lips Instead I lie still Commanding them with my negligence Fusing with their fear-mongering They take my shape; I don’t take theirs I am the alpha insect The form of their nature And now I stand In beetled armor A figure against the sun My shadow raining over the undergrowth Reigning over the under. In this symbiosis we travel Across valley and valley Coleoptera-covered Rand McNally Covering the earth, showing The dominance of man The man the man He who holds the plan In the palm of his life-colored hand I am he The guardian of land and sea Infected with a voice-in-hand Who writes eternity Whose pen is the land filled with ink of the sea And with beetles of lead I harmonize That between myself And quaking skies As the world shakes in its roots During a spacequake That bends our atoms like dried glue But then I am not alone And as I rest on grass of gold The heroes step forth, dressed in animals In a dark, ****** harmony That is the nature of our home, our Terra The brute beauty in black void Swimming through time like a turtle On which the souls of man rest On golden grass Our spherical nest And our evils are justified By the good of our pursuit of beauty Though selfish maybe Though hellish for he That swims on land But drowns as he walks the sea We are multitudes. We are Gaia, we are the mother tree The ****** bliss of humanity Dark and light, both are we.
0
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
Beetles
There are beetles on my skin Attacking my bark With pincers sharp -trying to get in And as they cover me Head to toe in a blanket of living death They tickle in bitter giggles At my senses, set ablaze By their exo-skeletal steps I do not build a scream For the sound would die out in between The sheet of beetles And my trodden lips Instead I lie still Commanding them with my negligence Fusing with their fear-mongering They take my shape; I don’t take theirs I am the alpha insect The form of their nature And now I stand In beetled armor A figure against the sun My shadow raining over the undergrowth Reigning over the under. In this symbiosis we travel Across valley and valley Coleoptera-covered Rand McNally Covering the earth, showing The dominance of man The man the man He who holds the plan In the palm of his life-colored hand I am he The guardian of land and sea Infected with a voice-in-hand Who writes eternity Whose pen is the land filled with ink of the sea And with beetles of lead I harmonize That between myself And quaking skies As the world shakes in its roots During a spacequake That bends our atoms like dried glue But then I am not alone And as I rest on grass of gold The heroes step forth, dressed in animals In a dark, ****** harmony That is the nature of our home, our Terra The brute beauty in black void Swimming through time like a turtle On which the souls of man rest On golden grass Our spherical nest And our evils are justified By the good of our pursuit of beauty Though selfish maybe Though hellish for he That swims on land But drowns as he walks the sea We are multitudes. We are Gaia, we are the mother tree The ****** bliss of humanity Dark and light, both are we.
jonathan-lundberg
Written by
jonathan-lundberg
Finnish
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
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