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the arrogance of poetry
Who sends me gifts of lilacs,
their mute scent clamoring
with my city, its carbon monoxide
mouthing words I can not hear?
The forest is unremembered here,
a sad dullness spikes the spring air.
Vacant fields of yellow emerge.
Come, pour the wine. Inhale the
elegant chandelier of air. Loosen
your lionheart before we forget
why we smile sometimes.
There is no reason for beauty.
Editing stage:
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Comments
Nordic cloud
Thu, 2012-04-05 07:41
I an going to put the same
I an going to put the same comment here Anna
You too have sent a sadness to this day dear Anna,
my 'One Snowflake' just written now and posted here,(there on another site)
we note the quiet of beauty that hides in clouds of pollution,
peeping through to touch our emotions, that's poetry.
Ann.
"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.
Esker
Thu, 2012-04-05 23:38
The Kuffiyeh of disturbance
history wraps like a comfort
dust to dust
this land
soaked with life
Listening to Shadia Mansour
she s beautiful
great poem!