Infused

A tender Lorca moment

Wounded butterflies

cry rapier tears

for mad dogs

in broken hills

eating themselves

in circles of

bone and flesh

-

garbage cans

rattling to infinity

-

stars smile through

the windows

of mortas

-

lost children

whisper and whistle

through aromatic orchard

pictures

-

and flowers cry

blue ink fountains

staining the carpets

of Moses

-

in ridicule of

raven's morning call

a worm blinks into

fatal last light

-

the corpses smell

roses in false hope

of salvation

-

 a world yawns

and stretches ...

-

...hunger eats it's fill

vagabond moon

howls its dissent

to travellers all

-

time ticks past

the matrons last stop

-

chemical reactions

to natures infractions

-

scarlet seas

without motion

-

a heart beat

Reviews

[Eilis]

With the bevy of images, almost like stills from a film reel, I feel like we are being taken on a journey of the mind in close, personal touch with the world of then, now, and later. As though the mind has the ability to meld time and bring all times together. Your title certainly contributes to this view in my mind because it implies the act of filling one thing with another.

Like a teacup where the ingredients for experience are steeped and we come out the other end with a knowledge we couldn’t have foreseen.

I definitely feel Lorca wandering the halls of this poem. His spirit seemed to thrive on the associative power of an image and how small things could spark within us to create new universes of thought and understanding.

I like how you offer these little vignettes and each one is like a juxtaposition of life to death or old time to new time. The corpses smelling roses or the worm coming to light to find its death. These are novel and affecting images that create visceral sensations when I read them. It’s like the helpless being subjected to a careless, unfeeling world.

But there is still beauty, and in a certain sense, I feel like it is determined by the reader how this will all be absorbed. Which vision will prosper and rise to see another day. Life and death bed together and we come to understand this is the way of the world.

I just really like this poem. There’s a depth and richness I haven’t fully grasped yet, but I’ll get there. I think Lorca would enjoy as well.

[gram linski]

thanks as always for your great review, Eilis, I was trying to invoke a little bit of the spirit of the great man, with that life /death idea, was trying not to be too abstract with some of the images, there was meant to be a tenderness , the sense that all this beauty even the ugly truth of death is captured in a single heart beat of Life, once again you see beyond my words to the heart of it, always appreciate your insightful thoughtful reviews, they mean a lot,

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Stream of thought projected like Linda Blair's vomit in the exorcist, hitting the reader full on in the face. The quick jabbing imagery is like electric shock therapy. I might need another jolt or two. Great stuff here and I enjoyed the read.

[gram linski]

hey, Fabian was meant to be a bit more tender than that lol, but I know what you mean thanks for the great review, I appreciate it

[Fabian G. Franklin]

My pleasure.

[Chris Shaw]

I do believe this is my favourite poem from you. The imagery is wonderful and yes, there is tenderness too. Wounded butterflies and crying flowers are certain to find that soft spot. The whole poem has a spiritual feel to it. Quite a different write from you gram and I loved it.

Chris

[gram linski]

hey, Chris thanks so much for your great review, you can blame Lorca, haha, glad you enjoyed always appreciate your visits, hope you are doing ok down there

[Chris Shaw]

He influences you well. Yes surviving down here in a strange new world :)) Hope all is good with you.

[AJNJ]

I am glad I read this poem today...A fantastic array of images, each catapulting me into thrilling imagination. The lens with which a poet views the world can be so truly enthralling, exciting and inspiring. A worm blinks, the corpses smell roses, flowers cry blue ink fountains and vagabond moon howls its dissent. Just gorgeous poetry!

[gram linski]

thanks so much for the great review, glad you enjoyed this one, appreciate the read

[AJNJ]

You are welcome

[DAH]

This is fabulous! Sounds like a mad preacher bringing down the hammer:"
"the corpses smell
roses in false hope
of salvation"


Nicely played, gram!

DAH

[gram linski]

thanks DAH was trying to invoke a bit of the spirit of the great man who was probably mad, not sure what he was preaching mind you, lol,

[DAH]

You're welcome!

[Robert Trakofler]

I do not pretend to be a part of the construct in the falsity of benevolence in terms of my own mortality to be set apart from the food chain like some higher being amongst the lowly beasts placed about us for our collective enjoyment and exploit:/ I do however see the beauty of wither and an echo in its eventual echo that will be me in its symphony so ill raise a glass to this poems resonance! good sir Gram and fellow echo maker:)

[gram linski]

hey, brother B, you are a cunning linguist, hopefully our poetry will resonate long after we have withered and become echoes, choes choes, always appreciate a visit from my favourite Bunny, take care over there, friend

[Paul Bell]

You've taken us on a journey of pain and longing. Pretty apt for the time we're going through just now.
I'm always amazed stepping back in time to how you find not a lot has changed. It's like you have to die to spread the message of life. Great poem.

[gram linski]

feel like we are all stepping back in time, getting in tune with simpler things, and you are, right Paul, many have died for others to spread the message, appreciate the read, cheers dude,

[.]

I am yet to read any Lorca, dear gram, but if he reads anything like your vignettes of lovely constrasting imagery, then I will surely read him soon! Your title alludes to his work infusing your own here and its the contrasts of life and death that pervade that stand out for me. If anything, your write is infused with a sadness that is quite fitting for our current times; where lives are being snuffed out in brief moments from infused breaths. I will surely read some Lorca sometime today. I enjoyed your tender reflections here, dear gram. Its a very delicate write. Stay safe and well. :))

[gram linski]

thanks Jamila, if you enjoyed my simple homage, then you will surely enjoy the great man immensely, appreciate the read, take care over there

[Ruth]

Amazing piece of writing Gram...the breakdown and imagery with superb metaphor is reeling in this. The world has become a rebooted version of things unknown in known places and while the compartmentalisation for survival occurs, things get more surreal by the day, brilliant piece! :)

[gram linski]

thanks for the great review Ruth, aye thing seem to have grown very strange very quickly, glad you enjoyed

[jacob erin-cilberto]

life has mutated into some unrecognizable form...
and the dogs pick the bones of the isolated...as we look out thick windows of monotony at the sea that has not a ripple, because no ship dare sail at this perplexing moment.
j.

[gram linski]

thanks, j. love your little poemettes of reviews, man you are on fire these days, can't keep up with your postings, thanks again always appreciate your visits,