BEAUTIFUL PAGAN /
ON QUANTUM
PHYSICS
AT THE EDGE OF CHAOS
in this flame-dark land
my lips are stolen
by wolves
the melding of new
and ancient geographies
from meson and grimoire
opened this passage south
through ice-fields to the
unexpected continent
beneath this cold dark moon
on this nightmare beach
within skulls of eagles
my blood sweats acid
redefining physics
mapping new metaspheres
under strange constellations
we were drawn to this shore
by the dream-sending spores
of monstrous fungi howling
from their forest into my sleep
of gem-encrusted chimera
that breed from the drip of
condensing shadow in glaciers
as chill as death
my eyes extinguish
in pools of bone,
my own and others
we find the empty city
in pirouettes of stone
and chill blue illuminations
that freeze breath and eyes
to tears of living crystal
leaving them locked in dread
of night’s encroaching demon
under ghost moons
we skirt the isle
of weeping statues
fearing its corpse stench, its
horrible miscegenation of form
and the grotesque putrefaction
of each carapace, and
nowhere finding life
beautiful pagan,
you who gnaw my waking dreams,
I tell you this so you may know
of the sunken citadel and
its web of spider’s limbs
that you must fear it, yet
know that somewhere far north
beyond this derelict land is
the world forever lost to me
that they must never reach
in this flame-dark land
my thoughts are stolen
by those who lurk
beyond death
Published in:-
‘STAR * LINE no.16-5’ (Sept/Oct 1993 - USA)
‘THE 1994 RHYSLING ANTHOLOGY’ (USA- March 1994)
‘TEARS IN THE FENCE no.17’ (UK - April 1996)
and ‘EUROSHIMA MON AMOUR’ Hilltop Press (UK-Oct 2000)
my lips are stolen
by wolves
the melding of new
and ancient geographies
from meson and grimoire
opened this passage south
through ice-fields to the
unexpected continent
beneath this cold dark moon
on this nightmare beach
within skulls of eagles
my blood sweats acid
redefining physics
mapping new metaspheres
under strange constellations
we were drawn to this shore
by the dream-sending spores
of monstrous fungi howling
from their forest into my sleep
of gem-encrusted chimera
that breed from the drip of
condensing shadow in glaciers
as chill as death
my eyes extinguish
in pools of bone,
my own and others
we find the empty city
in pirouettes of stone
and chill blue illuminations
that freeze breath and eyes
to tears of living crystal
leaving them locked in dread
of night’s encroaching demon
under ghost moons
we skirt the isle
of weeping statues
fearing its corpse stench, its
horrible miscegenation of form
and the grotesque putrefaction
of each carapace, and
nowhere finding life
beautiful pagan,
you who gnaw my waking dreams,
I tell you this so you may know
of the sunken citadel and
its web of spider’s limbs
that you must fear it, yet
know that somewhere far north
beyond this derelict land is
the world forever lost to me
that they must never reach
in this flame-dark land
my thoughts are stolen
by those who lurk
beyond death
Published in:-
‘STAR * LINE no.16-5’ (Sept/Oct 1993 - USA)
‘THE 1994 RHYSLING ANTHOLOGY’ (USA- March 1994)
‘TEARS IN THE FENCE no.17’ (UK - April 1996)
and ‘EUROSHIMA MON AMOUR’ Hilltop Press (UK-Oct 2000)
1 comment:
Lovely use of words to convey your message. This was a marvelous reading to stumble across. Thank you.
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