- Non-Erotic Poetry
- sleep
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Click herefrozen
upon cavedoors
crests of families
scrawled as in crow scratchings
petrified
woodstone etchings seen
as sights
of purple aromas sensed
and histories revealed.
from afar
the dreams
seemed far away,
but now dust plumes
from ragged pages
now
the cough of ages
circles back
deep breaths
wrankle ribones and rustle
heartcages...
on a rock
in the sand,
surrender-
sleep.
- COMMENTS
LeBrozover 16 years agoThis poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 36,500 poems.
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champagne1982over 20 years agoPurple aromas draw me into my Nana's linen chest; it is heavy cedar and the carvings on its dark veneer front remind me of familial crests. Lavender sachets and lilac sprigs lie buried between the brocade of yellowing, white linen napkins and heavy tablecloths. The dust motes dance as the pages of old scrapbooks get turned, in the sunny beams shining through the attic window of her graceful century house. Pawing through and examining everything aging and slightly crumbly, until the scent of camphor buries it all and we're reminded that these are the treasures of the tombs of the dead. Sleeping...
Thanks for a lovely poem.
Carrie
Icingsugarover 20 years ago...E there. This has an imagery and structire that evevates it far beyond the mere core message. Impressive.
Anonymousover 20 years ago.....becomes you. :-) A lovely poem - the kind I wish I had written.
Angelineover 20 years agoand dreamy--a sensual fugue state of a poem. Better take another nap. :)
