When skies painted waters azure - breathing,
When flowers caught lucid fire - scathing,
When my rib cage contracted - in tempo desiderata,
I knew -
There was no flash across my pupils,
A painful instance -
My cornea burnt with a finality,
The white blindness,
From looking at the midday sun
Or mountain snow, glaciers - try reading French,
A touch of the clouds, spinning me away
To where brightness amalgamates obscurity.
There was just that - salt.
Salt engraved into my skin, an alien,
And salt aging under the world from its beginning,
Leaving white shifting fingerprints
On the stones
In the air -
Trace all the crevices of a man’s life -
They leave no immobile claims -
Just white specks of realization. So bitter.
| Do you think mythology teaches us lessons?|
Or is it just a fancy tale, of Gods and unspeakable desires.
Similar to following the lives of celebrities or a favorite soap opera.
|| Posted on 2009-01-13 00:00:00 | by EpsilonpsiiChi | [ Reply to This ] || the idea of poseidon's hands is terribly inventive, and made me smile at the originality of it. so, you speak of tears on a very grand scale, how it blinds and becomes turgid and bitter, and very... primal, unable to be escaped. |
this is monumental in scope and vision, very wild and free, yet melancholy.
|| Posted on 2008-07-25 00:00:00 | by discombobulated | [ Reply to This ] || Let me say I think this is brilliant. It's wonderful. It's complete and I see nothing I would change. I loved it and it's a Fav.|
When things changed - "I knew."
There was no great revalation, just a slow realization, the residue of a relationship. It came with hurled insults and a "bitter" ending - "Salt."
You have expressed this is such a subtle way, with clever imaging, and hints of philosophy. It's like an acceptance that comes long after the event, so that we look back with a new wisdom of experience.
It would be difficult to choose a portion that I could call a favorite, yet I want to highlight what drew me to this: The first three stanzas are beautiful, but what caught me was,
"There was just that - salt."
Maybe it's the simplicity of the line compared to the colorfull images of all the others, the contrast. Somehow that one word "Salt" takes on many new meanings; bitterness, realization, destiny,
Stanza 4 is fantastic, showing the hurt, the "stones," the underlying truths. I think it's brilliant, so subtle, yet so true to its meaning.
Again, high praise for this one, I loved it.
|| Posted on 2008-07-25 00:00:00 | by phil askew | [ Reply to This ] |