Down the path of least assistance by angled dust eroded
A spiral copper leaf marks the myriad march of days
A ghost house warped in grain and knuckle knot exploded
Shimmers in the migraine zigzag hollow heat haze
Travelling back I kick the dust and grit my wooden teeth
Crooked cross-eyed apple-cored this confession confidential
Waits on bended knee presenting a glass-blown wedding wreath
Angled upward aged acid-etched and accidental
I cross the sentinel line of nostalgic date-palms sweet
Passed dust bowl dreams and muddied memories of rain
Where our names entwine in a clichéd heart-shaped treat
Beneath sap and bark concealed the gesture yet remains
And drawing pins on maps and brochures chart the lines
Of journeys on from illuminated first date palm-sweat
Through isobars, borderlines, battles beat and harder times
To precious paired fruit cello-embraced in baby bassinette
A spiral copper leaf marks the myriad march of days
A ghost house warped in grain and knuckle knot exploded
Shimmers in the migraine zigzag hollow heat haze
Travelling back I kick the dust and grit my wooden teeth
Crooked cross-eyed apple-cored this confession confidential
Waits on bended knee presenting a glass-blown wedding wreath
Angled upward aged acid-etched and accidental
I cross the sentinel line of nostalgic date-palms sweet
Passed dust bowl dreams and muddied memories of rain
Where our names entwine in a clichéd heart-shaped treat
Beneath sap and bark concealed the gesture yet remains
And drawing pins on maps and brochures chart the lines
Of journeys on from illuminated first date palm-sweat
Through isobars, borderlines, battles beat and harder times
To precious paired fruit cello-embraced in baby bassinette
10 comments:
Sounds like a life being lived...how many times has the cello played to fill the bassinet?
never stop the march and don't forget to place new pins in the map as often as possible.
I tend to agree with walking man here, on the first part. And how long have those names been carved in the tree?
As ever.. superb, superb, superb!
walking man: we have quite a collection of pins - some in place you don't wanna go :)
subby: 20 rings in the tree
Jimmy: as ever fanguverrymuch
Pisces-and I bet no-one thought you had a romantic side. I invite you to solve an enigma I posted this morn'...
Brother I have my own map and pins that demarcate the road through the different hells of my own. Glad to know you have or are at the least coming out the other side,
Very trippy! I had to watch my step all the way through your charted territory. The last two lines in the third set look familiar...you're etched on my dead skin. That's it!
That painting...damn! You picked a good one here. That is a cat at bottom-right, isn't it? Love the tree with legs and feet, too!
"A ghost house warped in grain and knuckle knot..." You got that right. Bravo!
subby: romantic? once-upon-a-time New Romantic perhaps :D
walking man: my geographic complaints are relatively minor when compared to some, so no real complaints there ;]
uncle tree: sorry for the vandalism but I hear that your bark has healed well, leaving no visible trace :)
I like the poem a lot, you use a lot of difficult english words, which I luckly know now that I am more into poetry. My favourite thing of the poem was the last word.
Mariana: Thank you - I try to use words in ways that I haven't seen before.
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