from The Accoustic Movement of Landscapes

Tightness



Used the curves of hat boxes
Fled corners, shattered
Panes of yellow glass

Somehow an unequal silence:
You were lying awake as
The furnace ceased to beat
And dawn’s blue reflected light bathed in
Your cotton’s warmth

When the blue was a palpable
Blue. When the curtain
Was torn from
White-blue space
The cold had directed echoes,
Prepared to land its messengers
In the hollow-white moons
Of your bones

 

I'm new to this particular part of Hip Forums, but am an avid poet, and am interested in any comments that those here may care to share with me.


This is a part of a series of poems I am working on, and I will post more of them on this same thread as I finish revisions.

Looking forward to getting to know many of you fellow poets through the fruitful exchange of ideas and language

 

ABLAZE

The placement in rows could
Spark a dozen
Hot curls
of magnesium
(there! on the granite by
Some claim
Providing an unmistaken
Ache of green
My emeralds just
break, and balsam’s
Meant for the stage set)
You’d go
Fetch me Columbia
And along with
Her rough stone
the conquered
blaze-drip crowds
cockatiel red on umber.