There is a time machine
existing in the world
in you and I
we carry it
on board.
Climb into it
it carries you
to worlds you've never seen -
or never will.
You feed it
with the fuel that fuels you
those thoughts, facts, feelings,
sights and sounds
that tremble with the bass
and treble of your soul.
Test driving it
exploring Eden
(that great story we have misconstrued -
no story of the past
is this -
a prophecy
of what will come to pass
not far from home)
I looked into a lily pond.
Below the pads
crept, slept and slithered,
ate
a thousand worms and wormy things
that honeycombed the apple.
The apple was a ball of fire.
Whose knowledge this?
I asked
and torn from whom?
(Imagination's flimsy craft
will dive as well as fly.)
The lily pond
imagination's lens
deepening the depths below the pads
until an ocean rolled away
like mercury from clumsy hands.
Descendants of today's blue whales were there,
no longer free to forge their way
by dint of swimming
through an ocean stew.
Burrowing like moles.
The more sea thickens
drawing ever closer
to primeval soup
life-starter
so, with that much greater zest
life teems within.
Steaming, overcrowded,
inundating continents,
acidic, biting into rocks;
home to polyhedrons
whose every side
puts forth
a single eye,
one leg and tentacle
one tail.
Most fragile
vulnerable the kebabs
(my name for them)
long rows of body parts
(eyes, belly, head,
breasts, limbs and thorax)
strung in random order (seemingly)
on insulated spines -
life-savers,
dissipators of the energies
from constant lightning strikes.
A spotted creature
half basking seal
half Chac Mool with his bowl
turned concave into convex
and then back again
a rhythmic
bowl to rigid dome to bowl
expanding gas
beneath the skin.
A way of staying cool.
Others had put forth
fine fractal nets
laceworks
of tubes -
refrigeration plants
in point of fact -
condensing and evaporating
milky substances.
All had developed in the twinkling
of a geo-thermal eye
in geological chronology.
if they can pull some beauty
from such muddle
14 comments:
Damn that's good.
Extraordinary lines. My favorite: "to primeval soup."
Good grief, Dave, as you get older your work improves. What will it be like when you hit 100?
"(Imagination's flimsy craft
will dive as well as fly.)"
Not only my favourite line but amply proven by the poem.
Another really interesting poem. And I'm enjoying the topical haikus.
The power, flow and rhythm of the sea and the imagination pull me along.
Your imagination is so deep and wondrous. It's an adventure traveling with you
Love the haiku. I think we are in dire need of someone to make order from chaos.
tremble with the bass
and treble of your soul
and I do
All had developed in the twinkling
of a geo-thermal eye
in geological chronology
to read this enough times in the biologic-beating of time in a heart.
Thank you for sharing your twinkling,
dianne
Carl
Thanks Carl.
David
Good to have the feedback. Thanks.
Elisabeth
Can't answerr that, but you've cheered me up, realising that I'm not!
Barry
Something I feel very strongly - more and more, infact!
Rachel
Thanks, Rachel, for both of those comments.
Tommaso
Two very interesting and useful observations. Thanks.
Ronda
Much thanks. Good to have the comment.
Kass
It sometimes feels like it's got itself submerged. Thanks for the vote of confidence.
Madame DeFarge
Here, here and double Amen!
Dianne
That's a lovely response. Thanks very much for it.
I love the idea of the lily pond being imagination's lens....it so is.
Hi Dave,
A fascinating poem. Like others, I like the thought expressed in stanza 2, and the words
"Below the pads
crept, slept and slithered,
ate
a thousand worms and wormy things"
plus the idea of life teeming with greater zest in the primeval soup.
Wow, this one's great. I do believe we have misconstrued the great story.
Frances
It has been for me, that's for sure. Thanks for the comment.
Derrick
Now, I thought that last might be a little controversial. Interesting... Thanks.
Willow
That's the other line I thought might be somewhat contoversial! Thanks also.
Post a Comment