This is the first poem promised in the last post, albeit a bit tardy. I may yet alter it some, but I think it's mostly finished.
Stunning ephemera
By Francis Scudellari
His head open, unfolds...
Silk-tongue blossoms
lip-pressed snugly
between shuffled pages
with bindings worn
by salted drops
their liquid words loosed; a splashing
of seeded gusts
the handy, clipped moments...
Beading sounds dripped,
funneled, threaded
on dangled, thinning strings
that stretch too far
prismatic break
in many faceted spilling
of feathered light
black-white, pasted faces...
Eye-caught baubles
picked up and tucked
in pocketing cocoons
that ripen at
random ages
and burst forth in a clattering
of flitful wings
all collected, thought lost
His life's timing
a frayed patchwork
of ephemeral he
tattered-edge weaves
stitching a mind,
full of disconnected dreams joined
to memories
5 comments:
It's a shimmering , vibrant poem. the words just smoothly flowed...I love most especially the last stanza:
His life's timing
a frayed patchwork
of ephemeral he
tattered-edge weaves
stitching a mind,
full of disconnected dreams joined
to memories.
I could almost imagine him trying to put his memories "in order".
Hi Francis, :-)
this is one rich poem - in meaning- evocative as well. I missed reading your works, :-)
The first line is brilliant, the rest- genius.
Z
hello... hapi blogging... have a nice day! just visiting here....
@Jena Thanks... I'm glad you like it. I had a bit of a struggle with it for a few days.
@drippingmind Hi, it's good to be missed :)... I hope you'll come back again to visit soon. I'm being a bit slow in my updates though.
@Zorlone I like to flatter myself that I'm an overlooked genius :P
@Hapi All visitors are welcome... except those who leave completely unrelated links like the fellow who left a comment after you.
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