Sunday, December 06, 2009

Theory Holds Water

Here at my window where the new world holds sway
Meagre food threads ache on the cusp of my day
Here where the future has become a fag end
Burnt knuckle yellow dead letters un-penned

Groundwater looms in the crook of the night
Rising without wings without death’s appetite
Rushes its run through the streets of my dreams
Stitches to render from these foolhardy schemes

Here where I wrap your bones in sweet flowers
Gravity’s low hopes now rotting fruit hours
Here where I sentence these strings of words free
Shake the world silent they fall from dead trees

My heart rendered cruel in a coal black estate
Windmills that vane the cold night’s old debate
Whirling the skyline despite the vain cries
Of the nearly dead idiot-voiced lords of the flies

Here at desk of the real estate moon
Waxing gibbous candle waning too soon
Here where the last of my tears now break ranks
Trapped voices freed from green dolphin tanks


Anonymous said...

Mesmerising imagery. How you pack in so much in such a tight rhyme scheme, I just don't know. I especially like the first 2 stanzas 'rushes its run through the streets of my dreams'- to pick just one sublime line. I lost the meaning in the following 3 stanzas and the fourth did not scan the same so I got distracted wondering if there was some special significance to the words 'cold' and 'old' in the 2nd line of the 4th.

Jimmy Bastard said...

Definitive and perplexing of mind. I liked the confusion of tangents you sought. Just how it should be.

Yodood said...

This reminds me of the process that keeps me awake trying to work out the words to complex ideas in a post I had to stop working on to sleep. The rhythm and rhyme are sublime as they are every time. ;D

Tom said...

it's good from start to end...and cryptic

niksixtyeight said...

crook of the night/death’s appetite -great writing!

Liza said...

"Here where I wrap your bones in sweet flowers"
I love this piece, and your pic choice is marvelous.
Thank you so much for sharing.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Cinnamon: this is a reaction to the latest round of propaganda attempting to minimise the impact of global warming on business

Jimmy: Out of chaos comes... confusion

Yodood: luckily (for me) my thoughts do not in any way interrupt my sleep :D Although my dreams do interrupt my thoughts.

Tom: shucks - I guess I've removed some of the cryptic now - hope that doesn't spoil it :}

Nikki: Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it.

Liza: If i didn't share there would be no audience - so thank you for reading.

Jon said...

interesting poem... lots of layers and depths to the pool...

i especially like the "idiot-voiced lord of the flies" and the political connotations this brings...

Harlequin said...

I like how dense this is... in that way that density invites more peeking and seeking... and I liked the line : here where the last of my tears now break ranks.... how nice to think of tears as little soldiers...

Pisces Iscariot said...

Jon: you got it - our revered politicians are most certainly the lords of the flies

Harlequin: even better that they are soldiers breaking ranks :D

the walking man said...

Sometimes we just have to travel to get to the point.

Anonymous said...

I' malong-side cinnamon with this one. Truly incredible imagery you've woven!

James Higham said...

Cryptic's right, Tom.