Sunday, July 15, 2012

Line Drawing

Dust shimmers on planes of light,

lights the shape of my bones,

a shape my eyes retain

after day has disintegrated

on the spur of evening.

How tired I've become of drawing lines,

seeking signs in every corner

of firestorms and napalm tigers.

I resolve to draw only one leaf

for each twig, though it leaves the tree exposed,

and birds to build nests in other places,

how pretty the weave of water and foliage.

There are four riders:

a rider on a flesh horse,

and a rider of death,

there's war and famine,

and here, the coming apart begins,

with a sword to separate.

Here is the heart of my tiger

with eyes of sparks

and detonation on his tongue.

Here are his teeth in the tents of strangers.

I seek sanctuary in the obscurity of metaphor.


Blogger Chris Never said...

I seek sanctuary in the obscurity of metaphor.

Perhaps, but such much wonderful stuff here, I feel challenged, I feel absolved, I feel...alive

your words infuse the dream, awaken the dragon, or perhaps...the tiger *smile*

A fabulous poem my friend, striking and stark, I loved it

3:08 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

you have such a wonderful ability to make my nonsense sound like sense, lol. Thank you for that.

I was drawing a picture in a bored moment at work, and lines just started coming to me, so I wrote them down ... and tried to make some sense of them. They are good lines, but I'm not sure they really amount to anything as a whole. But thanks :)

3:33 PM  

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