The sky, scrubbed this morning,
a dusting of bleach powder like clouds.
Is it possible to unravel
a counter-current of imagery?
The tightly-coiled poem,
bound and ready to spring.
Or perhaps excesses where
not everything matches?
It's harder to clean a busy sky
sunrises, sunsets, auroras, varying
storm clouds, tornadoes and hurricanes.
Poets do their best
what with the wild weather,
the scarf that wrapped their hair
lost and flying loose.
Then it clears.
One spectral colour,
polished around the shining sun,
still and fat as a blue porcelain basin.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Self-Portrait with a Fascinator 2016
On Monday, I walked, buying frames from two stores in different parts of the city, then went to the Art Bar Poetry Series in the evening, ab...
-
I have been asked to offer a presentation of some of my performance videopoems at Mount Pleasant Public Library on Thursday Feb 25th from ...
-
The Buddha says: “ You cannot travel the path until you have become the path itself .” The path is uncertain. Uncertainty is the guiding for...
-
Abrasion #2, Created, Interpreted, Edited, Sound & Music by Joaquim Gil & Nuno Tavares , and I love their YouTube channel name: &quo...
No comments:
Post a Comment