wheat (Remove filter)
Bloom
in rivers of right they spawn
eggs already torn and bent
that grow deprived of dawn
to salve and heal their rent
and battered by a rusty flail
to a state not unlike trance
a polka spinning them pale
to a hapless agony of dance
chalking symbols onto slate
a scratch makes evil mute,
silent observances of hate
doomed flora lacking root
sometimes they...
Friday 11th June 2021 2:49 pm
De Jeune
Sometimes, inspiration and imagination have strange effects.
De Jeune
Swallows dive, swoon
like wind-swayed ink drops
down, and beyond the light:
swallowed by the sky,
flown blue, over
road-birds – honed
by simple flight.
Like arrows in Canada
in thunderhead afternoons:
clouds rolling, rutting hinds
in migration, pounding sand-trails,
...Monday 27th November 2017 9:56 am
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