Submissions by dahlusion
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
"May you never hear swarms of evil spirits"——Poet, Eugenio Montale
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
16th Dec 2019 6:58pm
16th Dec 2019 6:58pm
fragmented no. 8
1.
… from now on, a reshuffling of diction,
word-acrobatics, perspectives gleaming
with thought: somebody built an orange tree
against the other things around it, to devour
boiled eggs in the porcelain hand of a plate,
the convulsions of the world can only go
a short length, it’s a matter of …
… regression, like tumbling downstream
over the backs of boulders …
2.
… near the end of his journey the man’s voice,
as dull as ashes, a cracked seed ready to burst,
declining through the dark, a short distance
to...
… from now on, a reshuffling of diction,
word-acrobatics, perspectives gleaming
with thought: somebody built an orange tree
against the other things around it, to devour
boiled eggs in the porcelain hand of a plate,
the convulsions of the world can only go
a short length, it’s a matter of …
… regression, like tumbling downstream
over the backs of boulders …
2.
… near the end of his journey the man’s voice,
as dull as ashes, a cracked seed ready to burst,
declining through the dark, a short distance
to...
#LifeCycle
304 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Dec 2019 3:55pm
15th Dec 2019 3:55pm
fragmented, no. 4
1.
… air that’s dying above cities,
impatience of traffic jams, fixated and tight,
steady and locked, like departures
that never leave, a distance that’s never
reached …
the fear of the people, the criminal
texture …
2.
… there are flavors in Autumn’s mouth, colors,
like painted wheels, colors submerged in colors,
swathed in a tranquil palette, the occupation of
orb spiders, seamstresses of silk, of trembling
nets …
the oceans of rain, wind, as stubborn as
loneliness …
3. ...
… air that’s dying above cities,
impatience of traffic jams, fixated and tight,
steady and locked, like departures
that never leave, a distance that’s never
reached …
the fear of the people, the criminal
texture …
2.
… there are flavors in Autumn’s mouth, colors,
like painted wheels, colors submerged in colors,
swathed in a tranquil palette, the occupation of
orb spiders, seamstresses of silk, of trembling
nets …
the oceans of rain, wind, as stubborn as
loneliness …
3. ...
#LifeCycle
271 reads
0 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
15th Dec 2019 3:52pm
15th Dec 2019 3:52pm
fragmented, no. 2
1.
… the architecture of waves, pelicans in adagio
but a tempo slower, the silver-colored fish, streaks
of light, like conversations out of reach, counting
waves, the soft and hard ones …
the sun-reflected surface makes me sleepy
as if a hypnotist at work: my thoughts resisting
this sleep that feels like the final dust of
existence …
starfish sucking the life out of clams,
the weight of the ocean …
2.
… the frail branches of an old tree, an old woman
an old dog, a city that’s outbuilding itself, straight ...
… the architecture of waves, pelicans in adagio
but a tempo slower, the silver-colored fish, streaks
of light, like conversations out of reach, counting
waves, the soft and hard ones …
the sun-reflected surface makes me sleepy
as if a hypnotist at work: my thoughts resisting
this sleep that feels like the final dust of
existence …
starfish sucking the life out of clams,
the weight of the ocean …
2.
… the frail branches of an old tree, an old woman
an old dog, a city that’s outbuilding itself, straight ...
#LifeCycle
274 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
19th Apr 2016 3:12pm
19th Apr 2016 3:12pm
Queen
The way the bees pull apart the Borage
pack their bags and fly off
I raise my head
and pluck the air with my lips
marvel at their weightlessness
at the way they stain the sky
when they swarm
Striking against the sun
their toy-yellow appearance
is a child’s design that floats
from the bottom up
small stars of exquisite bitterness
a wood-fire of stingers
minute eyes of splintered black ice
They have invented a secret
the persuading of waterless pollen
into Royal Jelly
while the queen dominates
with her dangerous...
pack their bags and fly off
I raise my head
and pluck the air with my lips
marvel at their weightlessness
at the way they stain the sky
when they swarm
Striking against the sun
their toy-yellow appearance
is a child’s design that floats
from the bottom up
small stars of exquisite bitterness
a wood-fire of stingers
minute eyes of splintered black ice
They have invented a secret
the persuading of waterless pollen
into Royal Jelly
while the queen dominates
with her dangerous...
655 reads
0 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
19th Apr 2016 3:00pm
19th Apr 2016 3:00pm
Sound
The spirituality of sound
of a gong
of a loon
the impossible grieving
of mourning doves
the cracking of ice
the drone of urban streets
trucks rumbling
over wooden bridges
a cat’s purr
There’s a need to hold sound
to feel its pulsation
to see colors of sound
or to hear the sun mounting
the sky or
the bloodless and wicked
sound of lightning
Ah, the overflowing tapestry
of sounds
with their invisible force
or the unconscious sounds
of the dead ...
of a gong
of a loon
the impossible grieving
of mourning doves
the cracking of ice
the drone of urban streets
trucks rumbling
over wooden bridges
a cat’s purr
There’s a need to hold sound
to feel its pulsation
to see colors of sound
or to hear the sun mounting
the sky or
the bloodless and wicked
sound of lightning
Ah, the overflowing tapestry
of sounds
with their invisible force
or the unconscious sounds
of the dead ...
561 reads
2 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
24th Oct 2012 5:16pm
24th Oct 2012 5:16pm
The Pain Of Creation’s Contractions
From the pain of creation’s contractions
a blissful beam of light produced its magic
its molecules and muses, illuminating earth with
life and nothing became everything all at once
with its expression finished in breath: Then
the Ancients appeared naked and humble, without hate
or greed, only to crack the ground for planting seeds,
only to ripen into simple shamans and facing the sky
they were submissive to nothing not even the universe ...
Excerpt from the poem:
"The Pain Of Creation’s Contractions"
From my book: "The...
a blissful beam of light produced its magic
its molecules and muses, illuminating earth with
life and nothing became everything all at once
with its expression finished in breath: Then
the Ancients appeared naked and humble, without hate
or greed, only to crack the ground for planting seeds,
only to ripen into simple shamans and facing the sky
they were submissive to nothing not even the universe ...
Excerpt from the poem:
"The Pain Of Creation’s Contractions"
From my book: "The...
724 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
1st Nov 2011 5:04pm
1st Nov 2011 5:04pm
October Passes
900 reads
2 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
26th Aug 2011 6:43pm
26th Aug 2011 6:43pm
God Is A Dream
906 reads
0 Comments
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