Leaves like birds,
birds like kites,
soaring on the other side of
boring business, bland bureaucracy.
Crispy, crunchy, catapulted, caught
by wind that sings and sighs,
drawing dismal eyes to windows.
Moody autumn moments moving,
crashing, calling to the core.
Cursing walls that separate us.
Rising, falling,
sky to floor.
3 comments:
Beautiful
Reminds me of that Inger Christensen poem a little. I love the juxtaposition of
Leaves like birds,
birds like kites,
giving us two seperate images that entwine and dance together - and then that perfect line:
soaring on the other side of
boring business, bland bureaucracy
is gorgeously evocative of the freedom just outside the window when your stuck on the inside of some grand chugging mechanical machine.
The follow-up line is another of my favourites as its so tangible - you can hear and see and feel the
crispy crunchy leaves.
Moody autumn moments moving
crashing, calling to the core
is a stunning piece of metrical magic. And the final 3 lines are so sublime - i'm so proud of my wee poetical pal:
Cursing walls that separate us.
Rising, falling,
sky to floor
The first one suggesting maybe a relationship where you feel blocked from the other person - probably because your still stuck in the machine - shackled in some half-self-inflicted cell but then that last pair of lines (which beautifully match the opening pair) are incredible and poem seems to leap outwards to encompass so much more than that - sky to floor suggests that the wall of the horizon has vanished - and all that followed fell like Mercury to Hell lol/ bottles to the ground etc
Perfect xxx
Beautiful
This is so gorgeous. It has become my mantra whilst stuck in the office
thanx
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