Sunday, December 13, 2020

Thursday, December 10, 2020

Sappho's

[ ] [ ] [ ] 
 
ex 
plosive 
               frag 
[ ] [ ] [ ] 
 
meant 
to 
be
 
[ ] [ ] [ ] 
 
loving[ly] ex 
 
[pli-] 
[ca-] 
[ted] 
 
[ ] [ ] [ ] 
 
[from?] 
 
[dia] [pha] [nous]
 
pleats
in 
her 
enamored
 
[memory?] [now]
 
[ ] [ ] [ ] 
[ ] [ ] [ ] 
 
by ravenous moths torn 
 
[ ] [ ] [ ] 
[ ] [ ] [ ] 
[ ] [ ] [ ] 
[ ] [ ] [ ] 
[ ] [ ] [ ] 
[ ] [ ] [ ]
 
to shreds.

 

Tuesday, December 8, 2020

A Rose Is A Rose Is A Rose Tattoo

 
Get that thorn off 
Your chest—what 
 
The indifferent eye fails 
To take in, the still willing 
 
Anxious heart torn in two will, 
And all those now too timid 
 
To reveal it shall soon be 
Wearing it on 
 
Their bloody sleeves, too. 
 
 
 

Sunday, December 6, 2020

Another Holy Mountain, Believe It Or Not

This time 
It’s Zeus’s so-called ladder- 
Like Mt Ithome that climbs 
 
To where the air is still 
Alive they say with spirits 
Of the undying 
 
Ancients that have 
Yet to exhaust that one 
Last precious breath needed
 
To ascend there. 
 
 
 
 

 

Friday, December 4, 2020

Humor Me This Mellow Melancholy Idyll

 
What if 
I told you those blooming 
 
Little yellow croci 
By the side 
 
Of the narrow path leading 
To the cramped white 
 
Chapel on the top 
Of the hill overlooking 
 
My dying birth village took me back 
To a song of my lost youth, 
 
Would you go along with me? 
 
 
 
 

 

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