How fragile is this hand
as it gentles the ferocious coils
which abide below the halfway mark
of belly, making discords of dogma,
and soothes the grinning sibilance
as the ravenous maw bites through
this tenuous grip on new realities.
Oh Mercy! The poison is luscious as lotus!
Desire welcomes the monstrous tongue
in the throat beyond question
of what will become of these bones
once the leviathan has picked them clean.
Inspired by the artwork, Thieves Blend by the artist, Eli Evangelidis a.k.a. @eliedwardart
Showing posts with label Poems in the Time of Covid 19. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poems in the Time of Covid 19. Show all posts
Saturday, May 16, 2020
Utopia
How beatific the ghostly face
as it turns from grim reality
of painful flesh beneath taut skin
unaware that heart is caged
and lungs are slaves
while bones remain as shackles
to the absurdity of decomposition.
Oh God! Time strikes like a meteor!
Life always ends too soon
to disregard the searing blaze
and ascend beyond the embers
of immolation until consciousness
becomes one with oblivion.
Written in collaboration with the artist, Cemal Eker a.k.a. @abreathinutopia, inspired by the illustration entitled Ayesha.
as it turns from grim reality
of painful flesh beneath taut skin
unaware that heart is caged
and lungs are slaves
while bones remain as shackles
to the absurdity of decomposition.
Oh God! Time strikes like a meteor!
Life always ends too soon
to disregard the searing blaze
and ascend beyond the embers
of immolation until consciousness
becomes one with oblivion.
Written in collaboration with the artist, Cemal Eker a.k.a. @abreathinutopia, inspired by the illustration entitled Ayesha.
Thursday, April 30, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Deaths
In the April of Covid 19
Day 30
“And all your deeds and words, each truth, each lie, die in unjudging love.”Dylan Thomas
Deaths
Words
I have sought to
convey pass only as shadows,
Beloved, across your sleeping face
in patterns of fern, feather, constellations
of life’s common comorbidities, griefs, graves:
history of these last weeks penned in poetic obituaries
carved on tombstones while angels keep company
with princes of the underworld, salting tears.
The last thing I will say before death
or dawn claims both our lives:
Mercy is an act of
Love.
Skylover Wordlist: Deaths
Play It Again Toads: Bang, Whimper, Hiss
Wednesday, April 29, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Match
In the April of Covid 19
Day 29
“There crouched bare in the shrine of his blazing breast I shall awaken”Dylan Thomas
Match
This
is almost
the end, we said as
we made love amid the lilacs
and stones: let us own these delicate
injuries, these dark prophecies of ourselves
and sacrifice life upon the pyre of lesser nobilities
than the passion we ignited in the kiln of cosmic
self-creation: we are owed this bare hour’s
finality of mutual conflagration.
Let us be the ones
to strike the
match.
Skylover Wordlist: Match
Play It Again Toads: This is (Almost) the End
Tuesday, April 28, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Mockingbird
In the April of Covid 19
Day 28
“… and then (sang) another in which she said her heart was like a bird’s nest ...”Dylan Thomas
Mockingbird
Woven bed of milkweed.
Lambswool and lichen. Braids of grass.
My heart-nest where mockingbird
composed her song of skyloving weather.
And the bird pecked feathers
from her breastbone. Gave up flight for
brooding in the hollow chamber.
A voice of numberless notes unseeded.
Now the nest lies abandoned
in this cage of my ribs. And I search
the forgotten summertime
of singing trees in hope of wings return.
Skylover Wordlist: Numberless
Play It Again Toads: Harper Lee
"Mockingbirds don’t do one thing except make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corn cribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us.”
Harper Lee
Monday, April 27, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Transfiguration
In the April of Covid 19
Day 27
“A she bird sleeping brittle by her lover’s wings that folded tomorrow’s flight”Dylan Thomas
Transfiguration
We never strove to mingle with saintsbut knew the joyous grief
of submerging our soulless limbs
in sultry waves of conscious
will to drown in the infusion
of our sacred selves
as fearless lips imbibed
the shattered corpses
of those whom we had once been
before the flood cast us wet
and shaken upon the shore
awake in this new country
of the blessed damned beatified by
the transfiguration of our intimacies.
Skylover Wordlist: Intimacies
Play It Again Toads: The Way of Tea by way only of diction.
Sunday, April 26, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Zodiac
In the April of Covid 19
Day 26
“For the country of death is the heart’s size and the stars of the lost the shape of eyes.”Dylan Thomas
Zodiac
I am learning the language of stars
beyond voice-pointing,
and my signing hands, which grasp
but fail to thread the song
when the needle is blind that pricks
the skin of being we call night.
I am reflecting the light of ancients
myself a point of refraction
with less of a meaning than a means
to radiate the text of elements
through the flesh they made of me
my zodiacal bone and sun.
I am trusting the dissolve of darkness
the depth of preconception
and loosening the lullaby of my tongue
in mute exchange of eyes
and fingertips, that smooth erasure
of lines between constellations.
Skylover Wordlist: Zodiac
Play It Again Toads: Reboot, Rewind, Recycle
Saturday, April 25, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Asylum
In the April of Covid 19
Day 25
“Silence, silence to do, when earth grew loud, in lairs and asylums”Dylan Thomas
Asylum
What becomes
of the mad woman
in her garden?
Driven beyond sorrow
of her fallow bed of weeds
and dandelions
to the cloister
of barren rockeries,
she digs deep
in furrows
of scars for words
that once bloomed
in abundance
now swept away
with autumn leaves and
heaped on the bonfire
of her silent asylum.
Skylover Wordlist: Rockery
Play It Again Toads: Willard Asylum
Flash Friday 55: Hosted by Hedgewitch.
Thursday, April 23, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Question
In the April of Covid 19
Day 23
“Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides…”Inspired by the words of William Shakespeare on the anniversary of his birth//death
![]() |
The Wild Wood Tarot Balance Image Source with Reading |
Question
To be or not
to begin if beginning
means to forgive the living
and the dead, the sunfoil moon
and the sun itself for rising,
to beg the bird
for birdsong and time
when it unfolds
what plaited cunning hides
in its dark inheritances,
to wake or not
to shatter eyesight with sight
of terror twisting grief
every question unresolved
of this mortal dream?
Skylover Wordlist: Cunning
Play It Again Toads: The Bard
Wednesday, April 22, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Seed
In the April of Covid 19
Day 22
“Fair seed-time had my soul, and I grew upFoster'd alike by beauty and by fear”
William Wordsworth
![]() |
The Wild Wood Tarot The Sun of Life Image Source with Reading |
Seed
When as a child
I discovered
my little claypot heart
rich with barren soil
I burrowed a finger deep within
and planted a secret seed
left to grow
through the lonely years
and flower unseen
with an ache
beneath my breastbone
a pain to be buried
as compost
to the rootbound
trust I had placed in my life
that one day I would
see the sun.
Skylover Wordlist: Seed
Play It Again Toads: Poets of April (William Wordsworth)
Inspired by The Wild Wood Tarot by Mark Ryan and John Matthews, with art by Will Worthington.
Tuesday, April 21, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Parable
In the April of Covid 19
Day 21
“And the birds of the winged tree flying my name”Dylan Thomas
![]() |
The World Tree The Wild Wood Tarot Fair Use |
Parable
This side of the grave
and endless wandering
I come at last to the place
where I shall lay
my cheek upon the chest
of the one tree press an ear
to the heartbeat
of an unfolding tale
and surrender my name
to the roots
of the world that I may become
the parable of four seasons
leaf fall and bud
rotten and growing beyond
the living maze
and firesong guardian
soul of the ancestors.
Skylover Wordlist: Parables
Play It Again Toads: Tree Mythology
Inspired by The Wildwood Tarot by Mark Ryan & John Matthews, art by Will Worthington.
Monday, April 20, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Orison
In the April of Covid 19
Day 20
“Friend by enemy I call you out.”Dylan Thomas
Orison
The salt
of this curse
coarse and white
upon my tongue
must speak
its truth to heaven
as I chain
the scattered stars
and bind them
in their oblivious acres
to my will.
Friend I call you
by name
that you may feel
blessed to be cursed
by my orison.
Skylover Wordlist: Salt
Play It Again Toads: When good wishes go bad
Sunday, April 19, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Pity
In the April of Covid 19
Day 19
“And for the woman in shades saint carved and sensual among the scudding dead and gone”Dylan Thomas
Pity
The crouching angel
beside my grave
feeds despair
into the empty mouths
of spring
beckons
while frost sharpens
its blades along the throat
of crocus
whose wound bleeds
blue and saffron
down the dark edge
of wistful dawn.
Pity on the living
who forget death comes
with the lightening.
Skylover Wordlist: Beckon
Play It Again Toads: Get Listed in April!
Saturday, April 18, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Fourth Station
In the April of Covid 19
Day 18
“Forgotten mornings where he walked with his mother through the parables of sunlight”Dylan Thomas
Fourth Station
It was my thirty eighth year
After winter when you passed into the swallow
Hallowed and star pointing dusk
And I knew
No matter how long the journey into night
I would never awaken again to your
Easy laughter, your easy tears
Your hand
I held close with a daughter’s hand.
Here, again, is the sun of April, showery
Swallows spinning
Woollen clouds of your birthday away
And myself to set
Paint upon the canvas of another year’s turning.
The fourth station of our paths crossed
Mother and child
Always ends in farewell
After, Fern Hill by Dylan Thomas
On the anniversary of my mother's birthday.
Skylover Wordlist: Stations
Play It Again Toads: Encouragement
Reference: The Fourth Station of the Cross is significant at Easter as the moment Jesus of Nazareth met his mother on his path to execution.
I do not practice religion, but my mother was born on Easter Sunday, so I have used this motif.
Friday, April 17, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Safe Harbour
In the April of Covid 19
Day 17
“Listen and look where she sails the goose plucked sea”Dylan Thomas
Safe Harbour
The white caps, the whale surge,
the gull-pecked clouds, the topgallant masts of joy,
high water mark, the depths of drowning grief,
forgotten coastlines of summers past. I fall
through the open hatch’s wild
splash of blue, through haze of sweet seagrass
and dive into all my yesterday’s forgotten rue.
With open eyes, despite the brine, I swim to you.
My safe harbour, still waters
tempest-shredded sky, crepuscular rays, tide wall,
foam-laced breaker on rain-spotted sand. Beloved.
You are my anchor. I am sailing home to you.
Skylover Wordlist: Harbour
For those who wish to participate in the Skylover Wordlist Challenge, please leave your links in the comment section below
Thursday, April 16, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Conversation
In the April of Covid 19
Day 16
“he who taught their lips to sing weeps like the risen sun”Dylan Thomas
Conversation
In the remains of conversation
we kneel amid shards. Our fingertips are pebbles.
Our tongues taste the grit. The toll of centuries. We
fumble in the fragments but only the weeping wind
remembers the words of our song.
Aphrodite’s breasts rise like white loaves from the ashes.
Her shattered face with soulless eyes. Carved lips unsoft,
too late for whispered breath of love to breach the divide.
We petition the cloudless sky
for drops of autumn rain to fall upon our upturned
mouths. To slake our thirst for speech. But only dry
rattle of leaves. Only the bitter tang of truth. Stifled.
Skylover Wordlist: Conversation
Play It Again Toads: Remains
Wednesday, April 15, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Folly
In the April of Covid 19
Day 15
“And we have come to know all places ways mazes passages quarters graves of the endless fall”Dylan Thomas
Folly
I own my folly. This construct of heart
and latticework of broken arrows:
bee-brimming honeysuckle athwart
the splintered kisses and thrusting iris
barricade cannot disguise the ruinous
neglect, the rotten staves and fallen arch
of my breastbone, the concave pool of rain’s
cold tears, where grief has grown to ache.
Unluckily, such folly is beyond repair,
this monument to woeful pride,
and hope of Spring cannot empower
the lovelorn roots of my desire.
Skylover Wordlist: Unluckily
Play It Again Toads: Folly
Tuesday, April 14, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Invisible
In the April of Covid 19
Day 14
“Time and places grip her breast bone, she is breaking with seasons and clouds”Dylan Thomas
Invisible
I am invisible. A strange pause. A flint
before the strike. I am a fragment of ether
sensual, formed as woman, flesh-flaunt
of binary star nipples, nova, matter other
than thighs and belly, white as milky way.
I am a life held in suspension. A part missing
from your sense of whole. I am the why
of your sleepless night, the message
you seek to decipher in the half-faced moon
at your window. I am hidden. Always here.
Your skin thirsts for my stroke, throat moans,
hands grope in darkness for light of my hair.
Skylover Wordlist: Strike (Stroke)
Play It Again Toads: Invisible
For those who wish to participate in the Skylover Wordlist Challenge, please leave your links in the comment section below
Monday, April 13, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Dreams
In the April of Covid 19
Day 13
“When only the moon rages and the lovers lie abed with all their griefs in their arms”Dylan Thomas
Dreams
Let me lie here encased
in the amber of your darkest dreams
no corpse but that you should feel the warmth
of my breasts beneath your sleeping palm
and taste again my kiss
unwrapped from ice.
Let us be of one mind, sleeper and dream
and deny death at any price.
Skylover Wordlist: Lie
Play It Again Toads: 13 is Poetry
L'Arora Form
For those who wish to participate in the Skylover Wordlist Challenge, please leave your links in the comment section below
Sunday, April 12, 2020
Entrances//Deaths ~ Ballad
In the April of Covid 19
Day 12
“Love is the last light spoken.”Dylan Thomas
Ballad
I speak of love as one bereft
of the ocean’s soulful ballad sighing deeply
in the wide embrace of patient arms;
I tell my love
as one who sails past hope
as one who sails past hope
in a whispered word and trust so true
a throb of joy is incantation
sung to the sky all its burning blues.
Skylover Wordlist: Ballad
Play It Again Toads: Love
L'Arora Form
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