Thursday, April 12, 2012

on the 12th day of Poetry Month

Glow World
Go with the glow, bioluminescent
inscrutable bright night flare
a grove of ashes
a nest of vipers
a tangled garden lair
The forest is old,
wild road stained in adventure,
obscured in ghosts and mysteries,
sculptured by drifting seas, meteors,
exulted pleasure,
eternal embrace of decaying leaves, sad savagery.
There is primal fire here.
Glowing coals that never relented
keep warm our restless slumber,
feeding us through famine
burnt remnants, perennial weeds, piquant renderings.
The glow screams of escape --
our demons free
through fingertips, lips, oozing.
Cauterized wounds re-inflame, never heal.
Scenery, like lattice work
slowly turning toward a wise relief, pauses at this
shudders seismically.
Angels of light,
diamonds in the night
shatter into rainbows -- pristine
honour, repose, strength --
of charismatic grace.
Go with the glow.

April 12, 2012

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