The Emperor Has No Clothes
1
The chair ruptures - extends
into the ceiling - meets the sky
it reaches with intentions to choke
2
The ass in the chair is absorbed
3
What does the gold of a crown
do in a blood stream - hot and mobbing
can it maintain points - hold its stones
against the tide of cells
4
The diamonds are from this hole
and this hole is dry and fucking
5
That the body was nude when absorbed
that the chair a sort of live tree
turning root in its chamber -
6
To the skies with everything
7
Place the amethyst in your palm
and pray to whatever god
that you remain clear-headed
in the face of this
Showing posts with label stones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stones. Show all posts
16 February 2017
Poem-A-Day #350 : The Emperor Has No Clothes
Labels:
2017,
a day late,
clothing,
crown,
diamonds,
emperor,
February,
gems,
growth,
late,
late poem,
poem,
poem-a-day 2.0,
poetry,
politics,
sky,
stones,
trees,
winter
07 November 2016
Poem-A-Day #252 : Vision vs. Sight
Vision vs. Sight
Tesla stands at the edge of the canyon - a glacial scar -
he imagines a hollow earth - he imagines taking the stones and setting them upright in a circle - he imagines mining his own salt - he imagines breeding pigeons - he imagines the lizards standing on their hind legs and talking to him -
You island you - Tesla finds a smooth stone and tosses it into the space between edges - a gulf of air that swallows endlessly and never exhales -
The stone skips across the surface - it does - seven times -
And it ripples the sunset just so - the colors merging into a matte brown - an orange cat sits at Tesla's feet - there is a breeze -
Tesla stands at the edge of the canyon - a glacial scar -
he imagines a hollow earth - he imagines taking the stones and setting them upright in a circle - he imagines mining his own salt - he imagines breeding pigeons - he imagines the lizards standing on their hind legs and talking to him -
You island you - Tesla finds a smooth stone and tosses it into the space between edges - a gulf of air that swallows endlessly and never exhales -
The stone skips across the surface - it does - seven times -
And it ripples the sunset just so - the colors merging into a matte brown - an orange cat sits at Tesla's feet - there is a breeze -
Labels:
2016,
air,
autumn,
canyon,
cat,
history,
imagination,
nature,
Nikola Tesla,
November,
poem,
poem-a-day 2.0,
poetry,
sight,
skipping,
stones,
sunlight,
vision
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