from silence to silence:
spring storm edges
over the mountain
breaks into clusters of sound:
bluestone and berries
roiled from its slick throat
while he hits full pitch:
blood orange and milk opal
curdling the cosmos
The First 30: Day 17
Filed under poetry
The last line really made me chuckle….sounds like he was very displeased about somethng.
Very interesting contrast of sound imagery – I hate storms so I’m with the bubba (waaahhhh!) – ‘curdling the cosmos’
Great post today thanks. I really enjoyed it very much.
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Writers Wanted
Fig Trees and Poets
Before the birds begin
and night slips to green
at breaking dawn
It is still, with waiting
under the wide canopy
of a Moreton Bay Fig.
But then a poet’s child
comes Ginsberg howling
and crying to the moon.
He’s Charlie Bukowski blasting
and detonating fast
chaotic metaphors.
© M.L.Emmett