Monday, August 22, 2011

The Shadow at Diablos' Mouth



















A decade prior I was left abandoned
Adrift amongst an endless wasteland

A saunas fire amidst oven coals
To breathe,
Was to accept the sacrifice-
A burden of air and smoke
Colluding ventures accosting ridgelines of throat

Days wandering the lifeless expanse
Hours, perhaps years left alone
Wandering in search of solid land
You must continue, you must
Else nature’s evenings shall pick clean flesh from bone

Never can the index measure
The scalding sweat and feverish tremors
Yet when shady passages are caught
Relaxation comes as joy-
But linger long here you must avoid

Dunes shift purpose with tempest wind
Enshrouding vision with the granules within
Tiny grains of ecru gold
Blustering a lateral discord
Ascending only to descend again

Shielding eyes you learn well
If sight be spared, that first sandstorm’s swell
Microscopic, blurry bits
Branding leathered skin
-A thousand embers float the sky
Spin & stir, a

As clocks lose their heredity
Broken springs unwinding sanity
Mounds of nature’s gristle cast
About as if each view was just your last

Mental games you speak aloud
Drafting fantasies to suit you self
Yet as a cast of powder blue
Peaks to eye from apportioned dune
You want to scream or cry,
Scream then cry and cry in scream

But confidence itself has lost its seam
Instead of race to plunge into waters cool
You hasten steps through moving tan
Believing you’re outwitting the deceivers plan

The calm surface, blue and white
Trickling waves, true or false it flashes floods
Despite the suspect mind
The euphoric bliss splashes fine

You pause at the wet
Sandy gray tidal sweat
Lids lower, orbs roll

Softly bristling, a-burst to attentive hair
And you wait,
Allowing hallucination it’s time of play
You wait,
Allowing sensation a pause to dissipate

As the fantasy blend the real
You ignore position unnerved
There’s nobody
For eternities near

All tracks have bathed
All sense of location
All pangs of direction
Awash…
 To the pristine clear, rising a shallow peak
 To fade into an aqueous fold of arm
You care not what shall be tomorrow
For today you’ll drink
Expunge the parching of teeth
For today you’ll dream

Unafraid of inhalation, you breathe the desert deep
Not concerned with Devils crawling
Strip down from your rags you do
Then submerse yourself into the bluest cool


Without the temple of time to keep
You’ve no clue the length immersed in peace
Yet wrinkled patterns form to palm
And decide to rest the night
And for one evening you may
Sleep under stars, clear of the fearful dreads
 The rapture’s that howl when catching scent

Still astir the heat dispersed
To the crafty breeze the vast beholds
Into tent you would go soon
Just a few more hours to spend
With toes dipped into water’s bed

The cool dreams of evening have since left
Baking under hammock spine
You swiftly head to dive

That was when you saw the darkness pass
A black-grey anomaly, covets sky
Painting its shadow overhead


You try and make the image out
But the lack of heat alive in shade
Clouds thought bittersweet

Atop beach
Inches from the drink
You understand
Quite clearly now
This barren shroud
Shall collect your soul

Mind shifts to pondering
How shall it hap?

Will anima separate
Before or after eyes blind
From a stinging wet
Matriculating from head to chest
Salty to tongue and moist to touch

You dive in deep right then
And decide these tears you’ve won
Happy enough to have found
The water, sand and sun

 Well, while a few days past post-time, I still wanted to get this piece into D'Verse, where Victoria hosted a discussion on art and poetry.  The forum deals primarily with textures, and asks the poetic community to compose their most texturally enriched poems, those that you can feel and somehow touch.  As a dabbling artist, which those familiar with my site are accustomed to seeing the paintings and designs I post fairly regularly, I love the ideas of texture, what it means to the painter as well as what it brings to the viewer.  I often try to incorporate the senses into many of the pieces I post over at My poetry site.  I agree and believe that texture adds depth and layering, not only to the art in the visual sense, but also into the art of written work as well.  

2 comments:

  1. LIKE LIKE LIKE Very emotional post. Lots of texture in this one.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Seaside, really glad you enjoyed the post. Thanks for checking me out here on this site. Hope you like the variety I try to put into this place:)

    ReplyDelete