4 Responses to “born to the precipice: by anonymous 20th century poet”
WHOLE AROUND LOOK
always dangling
but never falling
what is this crystal bridge
on which feet are following a path
that leads to a place
without a place
like the seat of a breath
or the cradle of a smile
in the hands of the wind
feathers of black ink
are painting the new colors
of an ancient rainbow
circling,
never arriving.
what is this point?
real space
or abstract reference?
distortion
or illusion?
a point known
but unseen
beneath feet spinning
to perceive.
RT @maekitsos1verse: Now reading Online Afterlives by Davide Sisto. Ordered way back in November last year and arrived at the door today! h… 2 weeks ago
WHOLE AROUND LOOK
always dangling
but never falling
what is this crystal bridge
on which feet are following a path
that leads to a place
without a place
like the seat of a breath
or the cradle of a smile
in the hands of the wind
feathers of black ink
are painting the new colors
of an ancient rainbow
three hundred and sixty degrees
circling,
never arriving.
what is this point?
real space
or abstract reference?
distortion
or illusion?
a point known
but unseen
beneath feet spinning
to perceive.
THE SIZE OF DREAMS
always in the hand
circling on the lines
some call destiny
space without a space
where words are poor
and all realities weaker
than the blind man’s vision
never arriving
because never gone
except in imagination
concentrate
I wonder at your dreams
tracing the lines of your hand
idle-ly
a fluid reality
of words and visions
yours
mine
viscous concentrate of poetry