notes from an umbra postcard

 

 

First the Vedanta of sky and moon waffs in your thickened blood

Aboriginal and dark as your ultimate reality; then the liberation of the soul.

Spring.

 

I couldn't have imagined the people of Gaul had climbed into you,

wishing to be conquered; forgiveable. That explains the ritual act of devotion

you share as licorice.

 

The small veins in your neck, the soft vascular skin that envelops

and nourishes, what looks to me, as the beginning of antlers. Eventually cats will

conquer the entire town but before they do,

 

I want to love the folds of your dry skin; leaflike fronds I bit into like tiny

little herb filled jewels. Place my old tongue in the fine , supple bullet wound

where it missed all your vitals

as pure metal.

 

I want to be on Jeopardy so you can tell  how bright I look under the light

filligree of ornamental gold. I want to satisfy your eggs adorn of frost. Tear off

your holy underwear, lick them for salt. Love you up in the wind as a narrow

margin of space. Ocean fish.

 

M to F crossdressers say that fans make every room prettier. I agree. There is

such a thing as a flame-tree with panicles of brilliant,  scarlet flowers. The

indocile orthoptera are familiar friends of late summer, hardly tame.

 

Placed in a jar together they fight and bite eachothers legs off with none the

conquerer. Rumor has it, they will spit a silvery alloy in your eye and will blind

you for eternity. I can no longer risk you.

 

The brown leaves mean I can release the few grasshoppers left alive, I can come

back to you, cry a mournful cry for you; For the things I let go,

 

hurried along in the grass, I look at long and tender.

Reviews

[Tree]

A brilliant piece. Sublime. Earthy. The referrence to the "...Gaul had climbed into you," just stopped me. but there were others. This poem was born in a place where the worldview/the perception of things uses all the senses available at the authors disposal, in order to conjure up this organic, vivid imagery ... that you display here.

[Emily B]

from the title to that last perfect line, i loved every inch of this poem

[Corset]

damn... unbelievably brilliant... I want to be on jeopardy...lol, ewww to the salty pantie line ...although, I think I just found God...lol. So many incredible lines in this I can't even begin to start, I'll have to read them all you know :) it's what I do...

[Distant horizons]

Well, I think your other reviewers have said it as well as can be said. Your words here take the reader on an epic journey, filled with subtle, soft thoughts, perfectly captured.

Delightful crafted here dear poet, nice to bring the reader back to 58 before Christ, and Gallia, and all facets/details you come up with, I secretly felt at home a bit, your ancient tongue taste salt, as your work is overwhelmed with all love, and care, I see. Not even spoken of the brilliance you wrote it with. Long and tender, are standing for "vigor and confidence" I'm curious beyond... Very good piece poet!

E.L.