VISUAL RENDERINGS – II (THE DESOLATE ARCHITECTURE OF ANGER)
Like dust-caked feathers from pigeonholes
unused, time hangs by thresholds
where wings, meant to soar, should be.
Through cobwebs, the glare brings vision
to a stand-still, and yesterdays
adhere, indelible as blood from shots
on the soul, with smears of umbrage
like droppings - to stone, to skin.
Air and today cave in, and thought
collapses, littering the ground with
no more flights to be taken.
And there, where life and the way out
shrivel, starved, amidst the acrid smell
of tomorrows, abjured, desolation thrives
- fed unrelentingly, in great handfuls of waste.
Like grain thrown to doves already dead.
© 2007 Alexandra* ~ OneLight*®
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Anger is a heavy thing
That weighs upon the soul
And, if we don't release the beast,
It soon will take it's toll.
It amazes me, meu Amor, how you can continue to create one masterpiece after the other. This one feels like a new technique you've never used before. The imagery of your poem is even more striking than the photo that inspired it.
In awe of you,
Teu Joseph
Only a poet could find among so much carbon, a diamond.
Well done.
Georg