I built an edifice
of glory
by the fountain
near the river
I sweat the tears
and the labor
I made my home
by the gallows
E la mia vita, come
i momenti …
appendere dall’illusione
[And my life, like the
moments…
hang by illusion]
:: 08-21-2014 ::
Daily Archives: August 21, 2014
BY THE GALLOWS
MOURNING DOVE WING WHISTLE
THERE! Love in a white-feather soul
And I saw you in my dream a mourning ago
I fill my feeder with sugar liquor
And last week you flew to the beak
The surprise of a golden heart
when doves take flight they give
a silver-pitched whistle…
My mourning dove wing whistle!
:: 08-21-2014 ::
MARY MADE MODERN PROMETHEUS
There you were, locked
in a wintry summer
that long cold
volcanic winter
by Mount Tambora
eruption
You spewed German
ghost stories
by German-French tongue
Your th ou ghts
fragmented
by the silky touch
of cold
a kiss from abyss
to heart
And you, Mary!
Born the Modern Prometheus!
And what say you, maker!
Mot of the clay of monster
but the soul within!?!
A brilliant mind of prose
Imagination beyond the horror
you created that day
A literary monster itself!
No thing that dispose!
:: 08-21-2014 ::
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