Rain, Steam and Speed, JMW Turner
and in their cold
condemning eyes ~
I am forever framed
as flawed fragments
bolted to the brutal beginnings,
oblivious to the wings of an end...
yet the intrinsic ink of my soul
knows not the art
of stirring superficial stars
~ fear not my antique antlers
caressed with copper compassion,
I am not their synonym
for emotional emptiness ~
let me breathe away
from counterfeit lies
pretending to be holier
than the highest of halos,
tainting truth with
tomb tongue-twisters
I choose to follow the rain
before the rising
of opalescent light ~
I seek streaks of sleep’s
sweet silver steam
blurring the smoke
above the veiled valley
of murky melancholy ~
traveling through the mists
of memories and magic...
I am tied to the unarmed
acceleration of alchemy,
an ambience of adoration
where poetry is resurrected ~
reconstructed amongst the
rushing resilience of rust...
I am the maternal momentum
of the mystical movers,
an unmistaken metaphor
for what sighs within the
magnetic embers
of locomotive silence,
rapidly ringing the sounds
of the sky-draped sea ~
trace this track of serene tears...
I taste time as
the ultimate revealer
of what beautifully remains ~
deep in the depths
of delightful devotion,
no longer a grey amongst
the steel of stolen secrets…
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
