Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Parabola


Discord of Analogy ~ Michael Cheval

I laugh the ghost to dust return
I tip the lid on Monday’s urn
The clouds of yesterday’s refrain
Hold me fast in ropes of rain

I paint the sky with fusillade
I drink the day with lemonade
Sour thoughts on trees of ruin
Hang my fears upon the moon

My fingers branch across her face
There to orbit and embrace
with tectonic plates and kitchen knives
All the dreams of tethered lives

I kiss the lips that taste my soul
Embrace the heart my own to hold
And sailing on that tender touch
My crippled mood casts its crutch

I call the ghost of no return
Hold my heart a pulse to yearn
The sky dissolves the day’s remains
The colours from my eye to drain

8 comments:

Candie Bracci said...

This is beautiful once again.

"I kiss the lips that taste my soul":)

subtorp77 said...

My mood is indeed crippled. I'll need both crutches. This is a wonderful poem, Pisces 8^)

Anonymous said...

Very nice poem! I like the way you use my image! great to meet clever and creative people!
Best regards
Michael Cheval

Pisces Iscariot said...

Thank you Candie.
Subtorp: This one started on a blue monday morning and ended in a better mood >oioD
Michael: As a clever creative yourself, I am glad you approve, apologies for not asking. Thank You.

Mariah said...

Magnificent. I especially love the line "I call the ghost of no return"

CherryPie said...

A day very beautifully painted.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Mariah: beats the ghost of christmas past ;)
Thank you CherryPie, I glad to hear that my words have become colour.

Dav DiDi said...

I like the photos