"prisming" poems
The world was never going to end
in fire.
It was never thought to.
Now. Thunder comes on.
The raincoat boleros around the street.
Momentous,
One two slow slow one two. Earth splits
/ an avocado, molten core discarded.
In the southern hemisphere they are waving flags.
Complimentary colors crawl up the sky tiding in.
They are dancing.
Ba-cha
-ta,
Me-ren-gue.
Their hemisphere Charybidises,
trees genuflected.
Quiet. The puddles are sleeping.
In the north. The hemisphere has run aground.
It capsizes. All the bands are going
down playing.
Rain panics off the timpani
prisming.
The brass cherubs in the clouds.
The strings red shift.
At the equator,
an umbrella floats:
1 bird inside it.
She prays in single syllables. Help.
Please.
Quack!
Feb 22, 2011
Feb 22, 2011 at 3:10 PM UTC
Volitional Cageling,
Lightling
Amber agony of in prisming
Show me a way, then
from the baseless lines
from my binding fears
through the blinding menisci of my tears
Take me a way
from this tangle of yield,
from irresolution,
dewhipped web of timid hesitation...
How does one escape from
"rationalessness" How does one escape
from this cocoon of "here"
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 7:24 PM UTC