“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label facing the dragon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label facing the dragon. Show all posts
Friday, June 26, 2020
Fear, Walls, and Fiery Tales
I stepped up
to the mouth of the cave
my chest plated-
the flickering light
sparking
my curious compulsion
for heat.
Come to find
not some majestic dragon
as projected upon a dirt wall
but an angry ogre
whose tongue sparks
and lashes out like
new flames.
The smoke
thick and decrepit,
his heart rots within
while his rosy cheeks,
black lips and eyes a glow
at me.
Despite this
I know, I am safe.
He will never leave
his inner rage
for the stronger
light of day.
And I could feel the heat
from behind
beckoning me back
to a place without...
Artwork by Francisco Goya y Lucientes (1746-1828), 'Seated Giant' circa 1818, in Public Domain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
And then...
Change is like that strong smell of cut grass or chopped wood that stops you still. Patterns, a symbol can be an illegible sign, at first...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two. The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it. In California...
-
This world is not for breath for feelings also come and go. As hard and light as Push and pull Go. Busy hands and bees-electricity, alter...