deepundergroundpoetry.com

Singularity ( after Federico García Lorca )

Many things shall be said
once I'm deceased—    
maybe what I actually wish:
 
one hundred year-old elms
  grow blueprints in dust and ash—    
boney ringlets annually; listen
  then understand.  
 
Damaged grass bleeds  
  green leaf volatiles, golden
copper across dry air—  
a distress signal:  
  self-preservation, SOS  
  against inflicted injury.
 
Death breeds Truth  
  despite how unwelcome its fingernail
picks your secret’s lock,  
  hidden down the chimney’s throat.  
 
Accept his burgundy content    
  staining plush carpet—  
  wine-glassed communion:  
    body, blood  
  offering Genesis of birth.  
 
Every existing thing alters to live—  
  marinates slowly inside change.      
Everyone gestates hungry until dead,  
  though not from hunger itself;  
  but, for Life instead.    
 
See? Nothing was about me personally;  
  I am no singularity.  
~  
 
#FedericoGarcíaLorca
Author's Note
115 words/115 unique - for 'When Dark Doves Fly' Federico García Lorca tribute comp. https://deepundergroundpoetry.com/forum/competitions/read/10828/
Inspired by his poem 'From Here (Desde aqui)'
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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