Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Twisted form: rediscovering a groove

I'm trying very hard to get back to a regular schedule of writing. I think the quality of my work will improve as I do. Here's the latest poetic effort, which I hope bears out that hypothesis ...

Twisted form
By Francis Scudellari

A twisted form, ever
(Love re-emerging)
It crawls out-in my mind's
(Or, more artful: heart's)
Open-fielded vision

Serpentine in nature
(But surely no snake)
Its knotted quiet slides,
(Less kindly: slithers)
Cooling all it touches

Each up-down feathered scale
(One-thousand facets)
A rainbow-capped smile
(My sadness turned round)
To oft-questioned answers

Its mid-section's bulging
(Perhaps new-fed full)
Tapers to sleek-lined necks,
(Indistinct ending)
Each locked in screw-thread spin

As its twin mouths belch up
(Inky vapor's coil)
A trailing music's script,
(Beats, no melody)
Out-cast spells, spiral hymns

Of near-wordless seeming,
(Slippery to touch)
Drip down in a green ooze
(Clinging, it passes)
Through my tightly clutched hands

Their meaning only caught
(Now, from a distance)
With reading-drowsy eye
(Long-ago embarked)
Toward sleep's final dream
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