Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Looking For Signs

Looking For Signs

The boggy bloodstones -
wipe them free, give them pleasure
in the mists and muck,
then trumpet like dolls
bend, ink forsaking the cage,
home of the limpid

I find some
droplets and mallards, magic
oars printed on cards,
symbols of my tides.
Currents camouflage the dance.

Textures yield up stripes
across the cosmos
and veil a faithless
fissure in impermanence
as willows droop down
greenly and dual
in the rich river of scent
you have left behind.

Fire and melody
eat my brains like worms often
chew through this old earth.
A torrent of tines
clog the old time gramophone,
mar the scenery,
and leave me longing
for the shades you used to leave
in the raw cascade.

‎May ‎7, ‎2014 9:49 PM
Written for Red Wolf Poems

We Wordle #17


  1. You're amazing. I like the "droplets and mallards, magic
    oars printed on cards". But the ending seem to edge out everything.

    1. Thank you for saying so. My upstairs friend looks at this kind of stuff as Jabberwocky, just so you know that this sort of poem doesn't always lead to "You are amazing" as a response. Or else "amazing" as in seriously deranged. When you sight in a rifle over long distances it is "finding the range". You range in artillery by a process of observing and calling coordinates. If you are deranged, then you hove lost your place and are firing wildly and off target. I like the word which commonly means madness. This other stuff points to the sort of madness derangement is.

  2. In which case we're both mad since we deal with ineffable stuff.

  3. Excellent work to spin them all in...your closing is especially striking to me.

    1. Well, of course if you check, the ending is almost devoid of the wordle words. That gave me the chance to wrap it all up. The last word came from my own earlier poem, just to be kind of ironic.

  4. Oh this is wonderful. Excellent work. A lovely soulful flow to the poem.

  5. Persistence paid off in your case - I couldn't see how all those words could fit into one theme, but you managed it well.

    1. For me it was stepping out in faith because at the start I had no idea what or if there was an end. But the part where it sounds like a grind, the way you put it, is not really what happened. I just had fun along the way trying this and that and letting the Jabberwok have its sway.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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