- Non-Erotic Poetry
- the old ones
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Click heresometimes in the first glint of dawn,
sometimes when clouds and light play tricks,
sometimes in a flash of lightning
or, when very still and aware,
you see them in the deep woods, or
in the fields ready for harvest,
or in abandoned city lots,
standing ready, their eyes open,
but congealed in time's strange amber -
still with appetites, loves and hopes;
still remembering, believing,
dreaming; still dreaming of being.
- COMMENTS
jthserraabout 13 years agoI had read some of your poetry a while back and really didn't latch onto it, but the two I've read today really grabbed me, this one especially. The images you create here drew me, one by one, deeper into the poem, had me searching. Wonderfully done.
jth : )
CeliaisAlienaabout 13 years agoI agree there might be something Lovecraftian here, just as well as abandoned dryads or the Furies or who knows what presences from who knows what band of archetypes-- but all the same, it's unsettling and haunted, like the conspicuous rustlings in one of the less frenzied patches in a David Lynch film. Or maybe like the shuffling ghosts thronging the shores before Virgil's Styx? But powerful, regardless!
Esperanza_Hidalgoabout 13 years agoof the three by far as far as I see through my congealed time.
