Page: Profile: Poetry
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VxPoem ID: 29014
Posted: June 20th. 2007 7:23:29 AM
No god grants him reply
Age Group: Adult
Between the drops that made
the rhythm awake
between the grains of sand
falling towards the sky
through the voice and in the eye
the image is all that can be torn
from the sinking sun it was born
treasured and trashed heedlessly
while asking itself why does it smile
when the dark Earth bears too many wounds
when the areas saturated in light are no longer
safe shores but mere evolutionary somethings—
thorns in his eye. Stuck between
lungs and the mouth… where
the blooming words hang by a tenacious strand
sink below like seething or come forth to bloom
where the question erupts like a volcano
the roof of the mouth to the tongue…
that’s where only sweetness should belong
and its teeth so sharp, it cannot understand
what they are for… they rip through life…
as it wonders, why it even wants to remember
why does it mark a place when
all it had to gain…
there’s no purpose in it
there’s no love hiding within it
it’s a mere shell to which one cannot speak
because only echoes will reply…
the drops made a rhythm
to which the still standing grains of sand danced
and the sinking sun gave a blood red feast
through which ripped the same teeth
eating the memory as though it were alive…
and the shell stands impassively
and beside him it still wants to remember
even though… that sand-bearing gourd
still cannot discern why…
the pleasure of watching the sky fall to darkness
the haunting of the starry sky…
wherein the cruelest things waft through the air
as silent as the night… and still
the shell stands waiting for a fill
and no god grants him a reply…
April 6, 2007
Author's Notes: No clue what to put it under...
Author's Location: Szeged, Hungary
More Poems: Widdershins has posted 234 additional poems- View them?
Author's Profile: To learn more about Widdershins - Click HERE
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