Sunday Whirl #111
vault, halls, swirl, crave, throat, wind, limbs, nimble, prairie, rapture, train, each
Deep in the Bones
You have raided the vault
For the personal/universal
A plethora of images
Memory swirls with time
Deck the halls
Breath caught in throat
Wind knocked from lungs
Limbs useless
Like an insect
Trapped in your web
Skillfully woven
A magician
A wizard
A seer
Nimble in your ability
To explore past and present
Piece together
What is visible
Then imperceptible
Autobiographical/pandemic
Perhaps a surgeon
Who opens the viewer
And draws out from the bone
What is not known
Or consciously remembered
Ride the train
Across open prairie
Each image fading
As it appears
The viewer
Craves to know
What is behind each image
Why was it chosen
What is this about
Is in rapture
As he fills in the blanks
Tells his story
Minds his own memory
The story of man
Hidden deep in the bones
Note: Yesterday after a long day in the studio. The sun still shining, the wind howling like a banshie, I found in the mailbox, and catalogue from Glen Skien, about his show Mytho-poetic. His work is stunning. And I want you to know about him. A rare and authentic artist! He has a blog:http://silentparrotpress.blogspot.com/2013/05/mytho-poetic-catalogue.html You can google Glen Skien for images.
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http://mindlovemisery.wordpress.com
The Yellow Flowerpot
I lie on my back
Curled into the bottom
Of the yellow flower pot
How long have I been lying here
I cannot say
As my brain quit
The minute I died
And left the scene
My body dried
I lie upside down in
A yellow flower pot
When living
I lead a secret life
Stealth was my trade
So good at my job
No one noticed
When I dropped
Into the pot
And died
Without a sound
Lying on my back
Curled in the bottom
Of the yellow flower pot
annellannell 