Does one wonder in hidden moonlight, drowned
by noonday sun, if lunacy seeps even now into
cracks, pores, follicles, corners of eyes? Surely
this maelstromic soup, part mother, part father,
part those who piled invectives during years
best forgotten, cannot have coalesced entirely
without simmering by some stronger force?
93/100
100 poems in 100 days
[how weird! WordPress refused to add the tag “nurture”…and only that one…]
This might be one of my favorite poems of yours. I like the language you used a lot and that photo is really cool.
Interesting. I actually was attempting to write just a tiny bit more in your style which seems more emotive/reflective. Mostly though it just bubbled up that way.
Well, that’s funny, that you were trying to write like me, as I’m all over the place, but I really liked it. All my poems do that bubbling thing, which takes me forever to force…sometimes I write and rewrite the starting words for an hour before it starts to simmer into something I can take hold of.
I like the crossplay here between images and abstractions.