deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Rising Gibbous

It's sneaky when it rises late
Poised as if about to cull
Some far flung cosmic herbs to mull,
Like secrets in a potentate,
Or heavy cream within a churn
Whirling with the morning chores
Or Zephyrs full of ancient spores
And ashes from a broken urn
Wrapped up into the knicker twist
Of drifting meteoric debris  
Which may be something that you missed
As a cerebral absentee,
And is why midnight poets insist...
That you reconsider lunacy!
MidnightSonneteer
Written by MidnightSonneteer
Published
Author's Note
This started out as yet another moon poem but turned into a rambling illustration of my mania, yet also a declaration that genius is much more common then people think and perhaps only wears...
This started out as yet another moon poem but turned into a rambling illustration of my mania, yet also a declaration that genius is much more common then people think and perhaps only wears weirdness as a mask, unintentionally, as often as not. Of course if you prefer to think of this wordplay as scrambled manure, you are perfectly at liberty to do so. I cite, however, ADHD as evidence. A common condition of the human brain-O-sphere and usually tarred and feathered as a mental flaw, but is, I think, a sign of intelligence that is only in need of stewardship. The structure of the sonnet provides that stewardship. Poem structure gives the vocabulary swirl a place to come in for a landing and call home.

From July 20th, 2019
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