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Jan 29, 2009
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3 poems of 1/28/09
1.
dung beetle
even the wind
is clever,
erases your journey
yet you keep rolling
the dung you have known
your whole life
as if you have forgotten
how beautiful
your beetle-back
as it shines,
you wallow in your stories
trapped
like the vibration
inside a mission bell,
you are a martyr
to your own destiny
buried
just below the surface
of the dream that would
set you free
to carry the sun.
2.
Who carves
Who carves the rivers
of silence through the
arcade of fire?
Who rings in the clarity
of truth as it meanders
through the body electric?
Who is wiser? The serpent
that crawls through the fissures
of Etna?
The owl with the ouroboros of time
in its talons of death?
I am Anna of Ohio,
our winters are the same ever-green water
Moses parted
we flow through the urban forest
into hands that dream
Yes to the love
that aches with being.
3.
bathing in the Nile, Bathing in the Ganga
i stepped into the Nile yesterday
i was Cleopatra, waiting for
my Antony or Caesar
the asp already held
closely to my heart,
i stepped into the Ganga
this morning
through the blinding snow,
sleek shining ravens flew
away with my blue saree,
threads of gold
binding me
to the red Kundan
adorning my neck,
i am bathing in a lake
where time melts
with Dali's paintbrush
and the river freezes
with the closed eye
of an archer
as she pulls back the bow.
dung beetle
even the wind
is clever,
erases your journey
yet you keep rolling
the dung you have known
your whole life
as if you have forgotten
how beautiful
your beetle-back
as it shines,
you wallow in your stories
trapped
like the vibration
inside a mission bell,
you are a martyr
to your own destiny
buried
just below the surface
of the dream that would
set you free
to carry the sun.
2.
Who carves
Who carves the rivers
of silence through the
arcade of fire?
Who rings in the clarity
of truth as it meanders
through the body electric?
Who is wiser? The serpent
that crawls through the fissures
of Etna?
The owl with the ouroboros of time
in its talons of death?
I am Anna of Ohio,
our winters are the same ever-green water
Moses parted
we flow through the urban forest
into hands that dream
Yes to the love
that aches with being.
3.
bathing in the Nile, Bathing in the Ganga
i stepped into the Nile yesterday
i was Cleopatra, waiting for
my Antony or Caesar
the asp already held
closely to my heart,
i stepped into the Ganga
this morning
through the blinding snow,
sleek shining ravens flew
away with my blue saree,
threads of gold
binding me
to the red Kundan
adorning my neck,
i am bathing in a lake
where time melts
with Dali's paintbrush
and the river freezes
with the closed eye
of an archer
as she pulls back the bow.
— Kailashana, Jan 29, 2009
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Critiques
infinite_dwarf
17 years 4 months ago
Anna
Kailashana
17 years 4 months ago
Not so much of a stretch of
W.C.Wampler
17 years 4 months ago
3 poems of 1/28/09
youarehere
17 years 4 months ago
common threads and like minds
Kailashana
17 years 4 months ago
Thank you Michael. Your eyes