Owl’s Eye
Owl’s eye
Glanced once
Blinked twice
Then floated away
Grab hold!
‘fore it sails away
A captive she will remain
Without a benign horse for her carriage
Screeching its trail
Barely brushing a roman-stoned road
Just made out a speck of yellow
Whilst she falters and lags behind
To a hindering hover she comes
In space
In time
In shadows
Where to now? Where to now?
Could you? Would you?
Would you tell her, please,
Which way she ought to go
From here?
-
Nighttime Wreck
Mistdom falls upon the lake
but floats a silver braided lock
damp from pearly drops and beams
the moon had dove and shot.
They felt the air heavy – and lonesome and pressed
the heart till it twisted and drained;
all pride consumed by the greener grass
abandoned that indigo plain.
Contradict me now, go ahead, I dare you!
Promise me a monarch exists near
a fire masked by leaves and petals
but fluttering by when rises the fear.
-
Outside Little Golden Windows
Beneath the half moon,
in the garden’s night,
black butterflies cross the sky
from under star to star
Little golden windows expand,
then snap shut.
I look up to the moon
in the bureau mirror,
a lamp of crystal,
a perfected work.
Reaching the lake,
white herons get up as angels.
Their shadows lengthen
across the blue
outside the little golden windows.
There is in these rituals
something apart from wonder.
These rituals, pure, angelic, natural,
never more than a step from paradise.
-
YOU ARE READING
Curiouser and Curiouser
PoetryA collection of surrealistic poems written during a phase of self-disovery