update from sparkleup
This commit is contained in:
parent
cfff0fabb1
commit
04c2db82e6
|
@ -0,0 +1,72 @@
|
|||
%title Miscellany
|
||||
|
||||
!{In *Civilized Beasts 2016 Edition*}!{In *Eigengrau*}
|
||||
|
||||
'''
|
||||
The dogs assure me:
|
||||
There are volumes of meaning —
|
||||
Life and death —
|
||||
And time;
|
||||
Past, present, future —
|
||||
In the scent of a rotting fish left after the flood,
|
||||
Or a trace of scat,
|
||||
Or the coyote, long passed,
|
||||
But not everyone reads poetry.
|
||||
|
||||
I’m not so lucky, all told:
|
||||
The rich scent of meaning —
|
||||
Heady, intoxicating —
|
||||
Rises only from words
|
||||
And the way you rest your hands on the table.
|
||||
'''
|
||||
|
||||
-----
|
||||
|
||||
!{In *Eigengrau*}
|
||||
|
||||
'''
|
||||
The eighteenth whisker on the left is brown.
|
||||
I know this after countless nights awake
|
||||
beside you, watching every quiet breath.
|
||||
You puff your whiskers out on every yawn.
|
||||
On longer work-filled days, your whiskers wilt,
|
||||
exhaustion softening your features, sleep
|
||||
exerting subtle gravities to lead
|
||||
you to oneiric seas and dreamlike sands.
|
||||
I know this after countless nights awake.
|
||||
I know, I know, it's strange to watch you sleep,
|
||||
but when I can't, to know that someone can...
|
||||
at least it somehow lets me rest in turn.
|
||||
When I lay beside your sleeping form
|
||||
I know there's rest to still be had for me.
|
||||
'''
|
||||
|
||||
---
|
||||
|
||||
## Liminality
|
||||
!{In *Eigengrau*}
|
||||
|
||||
'''
|
||||
A year starts not on January first.
|
||||
The days may hunder but the seasons speak
|
||||
of time's long march, of fast time, slow time. Thirst
|
||||
for "start" and "end" neglects the limen sleek.
|
||||
So, why do some unsubtle sciences
|
||||
forget about the in-betweens? Those pure
|
||||
uncolored dreams made mere contrivances;
|
||||
"between the years" now simply: "year, then year".
|
||||
These rough mechanics, held unseen, can spoil
|
||||
the beauty of our silent spaces, take
|
||||
from us the liminality, embroil
|
||||
our lives in cold and tired minutiae.
|
||||
Come sit with me, come stay with me inside
|
||||
this place between where strange new loves abide
|
||||
'''
|
||||
|
||||
"So, what does it mean?"
|
||||
|
||||
She shrugged and sipped her tea. They sat together in silence for a while.
|
||||
|
||||
"There's something about the liminal that terrifies me."
|
||||
|
||||
<p style="text-align: right">"Me too," she said...</p>
|
Loading…
Reference in New Issue