The Atlantis Submissions that were…

October 19, 2018 at 11:55 am Leave a comment

 

NEVER SENT!
Some of these may already have been posted here. This is poetry from “Voices” the ms.. 

 

 

silences

In this little
estuary
as we enter it
there is no time.

These: a sandbar, mostly blocking
entrance, an old
rowboat, half
filled with water: a tern:
a duck.
In the distance three cattails. A lone gull, far
above,
like freedom
This woman’s cool-
fingered touch
at nape of neck,
at hand.
This moment does not
become. It is;
there is no further passage.

Timeless, the moment
pauses and holds us,
(for once) wordless. (In silence learned I song.)

knowledges

with falling rushes
of surging blood you knew her, and she you:
tempestuous passages, perhaps
as much of pride as love…

there were times
you couldn’t endure yet still needed her, wounding
yourself like
some speared bull at corrida…

It always seemed odd
to realize how little you knew of her,
once she left you; odd, too, to know
it was only your own reflection

that ever hurt you

Jester

Bright motley jester…
his voice was light, and high.
Guitar his accompaniement…
Fair! Fair! his face,
and sad.

One would say his eyes
could not outlive the seeing
of the deeds he sang.
Fair! Fair! his raiment
as he began the tale
of how he’d killed a woman
in green foreign forests.

Done, his voice
faded into sobbing.
And as we raised
the rocks of our affliction–
made
him
the guilty one…
As we brought them
DOWN…
upon his head,
and killed him…
As we killed him…

we sang his song.

Entry filed under: Ancient Poetry, poetry, social psychology, voices. Tags: , , , .

This is an inspiring story. There’s also a big “However…” Questions, Scars, and Scraps

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