18 Short Poems
III.
diamond sky
climbing up into
the mountain,
collecting the
scattered spoils of
temptation; seeking
rest from raising
the green wood
roots of trees,
these broken kingdoms
will also perish, like
collections of antique skin
to be buried
in the garden
of wonder
(alongside the urns
containing the ashes
of apostles).
IV.
clouds rising
out of the earth,
while the lamp
throws fading light;
a demon; catching the
hidden light, touched
my hand and said
‘please make me clean’,
and an angel;
in the shape of
a thistled rose
unfolding,
both returning from
the southern weather -
from the flaming fruit
of vipers, from the blood
of the sapphire sea;
‘master, we have
your nets of tooth and iron.
what now have we to
do with them? what now
have we to do?’
V.
this robe of words
be put to death
in the midst of fever:
a high fire stirs
in skull shaped temples,
and gilded ornaments
are strung up
above the sea;
we searched for
ocean flowers
but found none,
we searched for
antique roman coins
but found none,
now we search
for god-like figurines
to decorate the
empty walls
of these temples.
VII.
once, the worms
were the rulers
of these dirt hills;
while the master worm
was not looking,
the servant worms
would cut unbelievers
X.
queen of Solomon -
stones gather
under your wing,
your coiled gardens
bloom with nested air,
your temples are
veiled by visions
of departed saints,
queen of Solomon -
behold these angels
shedding skin,
behold this withering
of the golden oak;
behold these departures
from death’s sleeping kingdoms,
behold these departures
from the earthen womb
that bore the scorpion’s sting,
behold these departures
from the muted charms of sleep -
essence of the spectre’s
stained glass hours.
XIV.
receive my sight
of this earth swept armor,
visions of these coral branches
or of the withered fig trees;
receive my sight
of these weeping pearls,
visions of the tongue’s lucid fire
or of the stardust womb;
receive my sight
of turtledoves,
visions of those lost crescent moons
or of silk spheres drifting -
keepers of
the celestial ocean
tell nobody
on what hour
they will rekindle
the forbidden fire
of paradise.
XVI.
on the hill
where the first net
was cast to catch
the oracle’s sacred flame,
a fluorescent rose grows
out from the bramble bush -
the teeth of the rose
catch the light
from the broken star.
- excerpts from '18 short poems': http://mercuryjbird.wordpress.com/
Copyright © Jesse Gordon | Year Posted 2014
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