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JB Jul 2018
I never asked for this, you know,
I just let it happen.

A whole,
altogether,
totally different, thing, than,
you know,
-asking for it-



a whole other story.


I didn’t
mean for it
to get this far
I only
allowed it to happen——
I only
held my arms

split open from
the rotten heat
of

March:
Hell Month of
Guttural Resurfacings

still the furnace on
,cranking, nauseating,

iron, leaden, air,
bulging, gray,
in the room we shared,

I only sometimes
(said no)
when you didn’t listen

...


((I never put my heart to fighting it))
(((I was complicit)))
Davina E Solomon Jun 2021
In Parsley, a Levantine munificence accreted together in Tabbouleh,
herbage that covers fractured bedrock in a poultice of healing.

Secreted within, lie igneous outpourings of bloodied tomatoes,
those solid affections that had welled through an ocean floor

as Neptune quelled Gaia's contractions, her waters seeking to burst
beneath the wrinkled surface of a salty sea. She, an underbelly of sky,
  
pregnant in the overwhelm of magma, sweating out her heart in fire,
muted like a moon of Neptune, in his retrograde soliloquies, yet mirroring

hers in icy resurfacings of skin. The God of the Sea,  boils an amnion  
to hazy mists, how deep will his trident plunge to dislodge those Trojan ships

of deceptions ? Yet, Triton blows a conch for Gaia, not for man's duelling
and his warring tribes. He soothes her feverish gnashing of thighs

labouring continents. Some fires burn in water, like desultory heartbeats
moving the pace of rocks through the ocean floor, spiriting away

to stranger places still, marking maps of memories in the beauty of
a stillborn magma. The limestone they say is no blood relation to such

alien fructification, those oceanic intruders, bleeding still, spilling
secrets in reds and purples. The acid tears spilled in lemons merely

neutralised in syllables, sedimented to a community of  limestone,
that possess no archaic remnants reminiscing through dead bones,

an age of glory. Now beauty lies in herbage over once raucous magma
and traces of a salty sea, freshness of life trailing her veins, in fragrance of Parsley
This poem was written in a way to thread together themes of Roman myths, the moon of Neptune and NASA's proposed Trident mission to Triton, the Jonestown/Lebanon County Volcanic field and a levantine salad. It is specifically based on the Geology of the volcanic field ara located in Southeastern Pennsylvania. Do read the synthesis of it all at davinasolomon.org/2021/06/21/a-levantine-myth/

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