THOUGH LOVERS

BE LOST

A poem in 6 parts:

Dali's Clock

Building on Sand

. . .

House of dreams

Suite Ste. Luce

Though Lovers

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Monet at Giverny


 

1

his lily pond

a mirror shattering

shards of clouds

flames beneath the lilies

fractured fish

 

2

the executioner stripes evening

a cross the sacrificed horizon

 

in blood we were born

in earth will we rest

 

our flesh turned to bread

empurpled this imperial wine

streaming with day's death

these troubled waters

 

3

green footprints the lily pads

a halo

this drowned man's beard

liquescent

 

like the gods

he dreamed

he walked dry over water

 

flowering goldfish

this thin line of cloud

 

4

maples flash ruby thoughts

ripples flowing outwards

 

as heavy as a stone at Stonehenge

this altar tumbling downwards

through a liquid sky

 

5

wisteria and his curly blue locks

Narcissus clad in an abyss of lilies

imperial his reflection and perilous

 

slowly he slides to sleep

merging into his imaged dream

 

a vaulted cathedral

his earthbound ribs

the blood space immaculate

 

6

night and day and sun and clouds

leapfrogging over water

 

something survives

sepia tints

dreaming on and on

 

exotic this sudden movement

Carassius auratus flowering

 

7

Clos Normand and the Grande Allée

closed to him now

folded his flowers

their petals tight at his nightfall

 

dark their colours

mourning for his mornings of light

fled far from him now

 

8

can we soften this sunstroke of brightness

le roi soleil threatening to blind us?

 

rey de oros

the sun glow braiding itself

an aureate palette

 

a susurration of leaves

 

9

the lady of the lake

holding out her hand

handing him an apple

l'offrande du coeur

a scarlet heart of flame

 

monochromatic this island

brown earth in a crimson lake

the world reborn in tulips

 

10

especially

when the dying sun

molten fire spreading

a limpid light

sky brimming over into pond

trapped in low clouds

a slash of colour here

and there a tree

a fountain of gold

 

the sun an apple

blushing

on a setting branch

 

11

silver-white the money plant

moonlight between fine-tuned fingers

its rattle of seeds

 

blunt the moon's bite

raked from water

gaunt its gesture

matched ripples

face to face

with the moon

 

12

upside down these clouds

bright in their winter boats

 

the night wind blows

clean dry bones

across the sky

 

13

fish aloft like birds

skimming wet sunshine

 

spring's first swallow

rising from the depths

to snatch a golden note

quivering in the air

 

14

thunder raises dark ripples

 

lightning a forked tongue

insinuated into paradise

 

an apple tossed away

caution thrown over the shoulder

as sharp as salt

 

15

winds of change

 

that first bite

too bitter to remember

 

16

 

timeless this tide

this ebb and flow

 

oh great pond-serpent

 

biting yourself

forever

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