Showing posts with label felt self. Show all posts
Showing posts with label felt self. Show all posts

Sunday, May 21, 2017

The Sculptor recoils at the mess made




The stone may remain
a mark, a mary,
an adam or a bone,
and thus, it surpasses us.

Immortal or always dead-
This
does not explain
heat retention
or justify the cold
kept on and in.



Medusa met her match in a mirror,
a moment forestalled by the vividness-
as perpetual disturbance or hair on end-
as in, the felt self
never having been
so repulsed before

She,
sentenced to see, only.
Muted.
She makes more matter
for company-posterity,
as in a collective semblance
with what is given.



By stone, in stone
the smallest settle
together. Bolder.

Be-cause con-crete crystals,
gold dust flecks spark-les
closer to the smooth surface.

Reflection, like passing winds
erode the images cast in like-ness
breaks down
all That
the stone hoped to be.




Painting by Jean-Léon Gérôme, Pygmalion, and Galeta in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Half-dozen Mud cakes

Back to wood decks, quarter-size spiders, webs, moss  and creatures stirring in the hollow nights Back to no side-walks and skirting into th...