Underside man


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He ate my nightmare and I woke

To his reaching for my last years

In raging torrents and parched channels

Roots and roofs mired in tears

I would have lived the dreaming through

With all its miseries

Rather than see his hands dispersing

Earth into hollow galaxies

And I had given him nothing

I had not crowned him underside

An arbiter of fates with appetite

To eat fruits of mouth and mind

But he had his crown of the people

All neighbours but strangers to me

And I was helpless but to yield him

My future wrapped in my dreams

*

Image from earth.com

Solar-powered raft


What love did I have that

Could ride hawk’s red

To the underside of the dawn?

I sat sipping the dregs

Of the radio connection

Dying in my palm

Some part I must have said aloud

Sky curling in and earth drying out

And I overseeing nothing

On an overturned cracked bucket

Where the road crumbled

And birds forgot to sing

Continue reading “Solar-powered raft”

Faerie lost


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I saw your footprints in the moss

Then, but now no longer

Trailing in the brook, ‘cross sunning rock

Then, but now no longer

What canopy could smell as fine

As night clouds through the trees

What bed the moss’ rival

What halls like trackless leaves

We touched hands once below the cliff

That turned the merlin’s head

And I followed you into gullies

Where time rode water’s wend

I saw you perched upon the moss

Then, but now no longer

And loved your naked, dirtied soles

Then, but now no longer

Venus Shipwrecked


What pitch of entropy, what glassy trumpet call

The roar and rolling of a mindless sea

Drowning men of words and beasts of calm

No constant but constant mercury

Shatter there upon the rocks and rise again

To resound, a death knell for death’s rest

That peace which might have been our lot

Between cauldron’s boil and thorny crest

What fury roused and left unanswered!

What ardor, fear, and stark unknowing

Whether against the swell or drifting apart

She cradles – ever sinking, ever floating

 

Of flowers past


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Where light my darling coming

Through the white Queen’s lace and fetters

I see her love of shoot and sprig

Of loosestrife even as asters

Her mouth a bow of girlish charm

And her hands everywhere trailing

So she was many summers past

And so now I briefly see her

Better cast in my adoration

Than in all the sun’s rayed splendour

~

Elizabeth Cook, 2017

Image from Karen Margulis