“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 stucco wall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stucco wall. Show all posts
Saturday, September 3, 2016
Penumbra
shafts of shadow shrink
silhouetted slants shut
downward dimming,
the greedy gleam absorbs
its shade overbearing obfuscation
mimicking migraines on maps...
veins strained, pupils peel back
in drumming dilation-
the ground groans
under the wait
of light.
Painting By George Elbert Burr (Herbert F. Johnson Museum of Art) [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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...