Best Magma Poems
Coral life forms in copious swarms
feast in the Cambrian chyme,
dividing their cells and forming their shells
to end on the seafloor as lime.
Tectonic churning and magma upturning
renders marble whiter than bone.
The marble is mined, but the cutters are blind
to the angel confined in the stone.
A young sculptor arose, with a bend in his nose
and a transcendent creative spark,
charged with ambition to fulfill a commission,
an angel for St. Dominic's Ark.
An artist sublime who will live for all time,
his genius is to see things not shown.
For an angel to achieve he first has to perceive
its splendor enclosed in the stone.
At dawning's first glow he surveys the tableau
of the blocks the stone cutters supplied.
In some he sees dreams of potential themes,
but only one holds an angel inside.
“A beautiful thing never gives so much pain
as does failing to hear it and see it.”
The block that he chose was rejected by those
who then lied and claimed to foresee it.
With talent and skill he falls to with a will,
surrounded by rubble and relic.
His method you see, for the angel to free
is to remove all the bits not angelic.
Michelangelo’s art for all time stands apart
but there's something further to heed.
For there's a bit more to the fine metaphor
in the tale of the angel he freed.
“A beautiful thing never gives so much pain
as does failing to hear it and see it.”
For in all our insides a bright angel abides
and is just waiting for something to free it:
to remove all the parts which harden our hearts,
to chip out the darkness and pride,
to smooth the rough patches, to polish the scratches
and unshackle the angel inside.
© January 26, 2013
The unlikely alliance
for me you need not be clothed
I understand your fragility
of which the edges are like krill
To you I disclose my being,
for only you I rehearse my songs.
From the truest vestiges of the heart,
where the rumbling of the soul
and electric current making multiple zeds as if ignition cannot be..
until it does..
Erupts this volcano inside of me, the magma of the heart cascading walls and gleam.
Steaming, hissing ,smoking at your feet and there it halts, and there it cools and I deliver me.
Touch me I am warm
Feel me I am true.
Where us unlikely two shall meet, you the tulip, I the lava.
There your trusting brave will do what none would believe.
I give you that diamond of the earth, that stone that doesn’t melt,
under pressure it was formed.
Be sure to stand the allegations of my antagonist
How I need your alibi
Oh how I yearn for truth
not like a Christian, but like a victim.
I prayed like a woman afraid,
afraid I was the sacrifice to his vice.
I would lie awake then. I lie awake now
as my heartbeat hammers
my breastbone like a blacksmith,
I remember… I remember
in a pale cringe, I sniffled. My blood polka-dotted
a white floor that smeared an inkblot of me.
A split lip, half-wit tamed by the maim of his fist.
His madman’s magma buried me,
a lingual lava flow that hardened as it cooled.
My sense of self turned to obsidian. I fractured.
Tears slashed like shards. I bled self-esteem.
He preyed on me
as I prayed to him like he was a god.
Please forgive me! It’s all my fault! On my knees
I was dead to myself.
He split my skin. Stripped me to my bones.
His vulture needs I remember.
My emotional remains he savored,
flavored with backhands and vodka bottle bottoms.
I seethed in sour juices of moonshine abuses.
I counted moons and contusions. I counted
each stitch needled through my skin.
My heart quilted with clichés;
I love you. I'm sorry. It'll never happen again.
I seized my breath so's not to moan or implode.
As I exhale I remember
I fantasized of blasting him to the belly of Hell
when I’d usher vengeance inside our back door.
Reaper’s reckoning when this battered forget-me-not
shattered his bones with buck-shot scatter. Damn!
I’d have paid the devil for a jail cell to be free.
A candlelight-night bruised by cruiser lights:
I remember I prayed like a victim to 911.
Oh God! Please God! Help me! He's gonna kill me!
I pressed bleeding heart flowers between diary pages,
diary pages without words cried to be heard.
Concussion dreams panic my pulse, dilate my eyes!
Oh, dreamless sleep, grant me deceased peace.
Until night hags of nightmares die
I will remember...
'k kyk neer rivier
wat kronk'lend paaie baan
in dalle vloer
afgemat en steeds geboè
poele plas en blitsend 'kaats
drenkend dans palmiete gras
soos manne kras in kroee
dalk net dromend was
my refleksie in jou oè
Iris geruit as wimpers sluit
was binne-in my hart getoor
en bloedriviere in ons are bruis
vuurspuwend ons in lawa doop
die magma braak in kers se was
dog rooiend en bloedend soos ons passie was
eiland swart en eenkant ek
omring atol n trane oseaan
wat reent verkoeld tektonies bars
in woorde was so onbedoeld
was dit gans so ongehoord
Helaas!! KEER DIT VOOR!
..en eggo steeds nog minder so
Earth's rich soil
humble dirt
complex dirt
elemental earth
layer upon layer
where it hides
mineral treasures
more than we could
ever measure.
Quartz and crystals
gold and gems
salt and silver
precious oil
stolen and lifted
by hands of men.
Rumbling from the
bowels of earth
hot magma rises
erupts and flows
spews and plummets
to lands below.
Mother earth
source of life
for plants and trees
roots run deep
thirstily searching
to seek and find
precious fountains
hidden waters
sublime.
There are hidden
secrets within
earth's crust
where we have come
from within it's dust
where God has formed
our earthly frame
where to dust
we'll return again.
Written on 3/7/2016
In Thrall
I’ve scooped plasma from the sun
To cook meals and heat my bath,
Moved Mount Everest just for fun;
None can ever walk my path.
I’ve had dinner on Saturn’s rings,
Kicked the moon like a soccer ball,
Plucked light rays like guitar strings—
I should adorn the walls of great halls.
I’ve swum the depths of every sea,
Journeyed to the center of the Earth,
Drunk molten magma like green tea;
My mind suffers no dearth.
I am the Law, the Order, and the King,
Free! Only to my mind am I in thrall.
I relish the escapes its figments bring,
Finding ways out of my every fall.
I’m a minstrel with an unchained mind
Or some raving loony in sanity’s cloak.
It’s no matter to what you are aligned,
Life is easier if seen, in part, as a joke!
Sept. 23, 2018
In the firmament of trees
October's eye
looks down in cruel azure
on summer's absinthe leaves,
flocking like survivors
to a mortal haven.
Autumn's blood magma
creeps through leaves
bequeathing fire
and brittle amber.
Fertile frost breeds
in arctic prisms,
whispering feral eddas
as withering violets
echo bitter truth.
Personification of the Elements – 9-1-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Elementals
Frigid currents gather stirring
Mists to rain hail in fists of fire and ice
From fractured magma stone eruptions
Crust and fire collide
In melted tornados
In hollows where minerals hitchhike
Into purple ruby hazes
Igneous bursts into fevered conundrums
Where four elementals convene
In cryptic crystals, intoxicated by emerald,
Fused laughing enigmas,
Shedding molten aqua teardrops,
Where fire and fury reside
Imprisoned in liquid stone,
Sparkling matrix thunders,
Compressed grit in animations
Of clear-cut brilliance
The Elementals speak
In captured eternal flames,
Water, stone and breath.
Circumstance encompassing around and flowing as the mill race in turbulent rolling curls,
Surges.' Forth to flow; and fall, visions issue with or without portent,
to my observation and my limited discernment.
Also fate makes it s call and then falls a power,
as do the oceans rearing ramparts downwards smash
On sand or shingle strands by night, by day, and twilight hours,
whilst magma as incandescent fire spouts and high hurled, red
In-veined opals show a pastel field green & blue
glistening inside more verdant hues, liquid colours flow as golden day
Ignites and shines, faint breaths of spring essay its designs
then retreat as the atmosphere chills, to threats of snow and sundry ills.
©Joe Maverick 18-2-2011
Life is balanced on a razor thin edge
Fiery magma below us
And just on the edge
The atmosphere thins to nothing but cold
But we go on living as if never told
Never listening living in ignorant bliss
Something is wrong something’s amiss
Do something now or we can dismiss
All that we care for all that we’ll miss
When nothing is done and we have arrived
Only to find that nothing’s survived
You are the river running through
unfathomable greens
glassy yellows
down in the core of the river
flicker lightness on top
You increase me…swell me…impregnate without word or deed
push me to the fore till my sail fills with your carbon
a deep blue undertow …rip tidian
only moderate and full…like a plate of food...of vegetables …of fruit…of corn
You are the dark brown peat from which I absorb minerals
vitamins … steel ...magnesium…sulfate
the pillow of my essence’s rest in your name …hurricane
You fall on me
Wash off delusion
And I am a small green thing …a fine rooted thing
Small leaves of me stretch for your chloroformian shadows
My roots dig deep
hear your drum beat in the equatorial regions of the flaming core
I bend around the rocks …look under ever beetle’s shimmering skin
in all things you can be found
Amorous and craving …a magma surface of tension and sun
in tree tops …dark places
in the dark alleys
You are the blue jay…the cardinal but also the raven
the oak knows you too well…the west wind too and swells up in my skirts…my cottons
my downy …my linen …my lead
you stand … your hands on your hips
look out over the possibilities
hungry for returns
I echo
Light housing across ….a sound burst
a wave in a vast universe of waves ..so many
too many waves
but you will hear me
Master of my heart
lover of my flesh and bone…my fat ..my thinness…my crispness…my luxury
You will hear …what no one else will ever know
and call it home
Sometimes I learnt, mmhh……… actually,
Most of the times that…………
Words are lesser than actions
And actions don’t depict intentions
Half this life one spends wondering literally in the mind.
I on the other end,
Have a rendezvous with sleep.
Wonder I left to the well built intellectually,
Like Okumu!
I want to visit Jamaica while not high!
My wedding will take place in Venice,
The city of masqueraders in the name of aristocrats!
Of merchants and shylocks!
Clearly I don’t wonder!
I am ten feet deeper than the corpse
Somehow on my way down there,
I heard them whisper from afar
And now I am about to reach the earth’s core………..
I heard magma burn with fiery down there!
Could it be the same hell the vicar preached?
Truly I wonder not!
All the same, I happened!
I am the rule of the thumb-
If it wasn’t written, it didn’t happen.
Where you ask?
Right in the pupil of your eye
As you stare into my lips, reciting this piece to you
And to think I don’t wonder!
Conventional wisdom means:
Compliments
Smiles
Artificial flowers
Restraint and order
It’s like an English garden
Trimmed and accurate
Where nature is masked
And curves are beaten
It’s like an artificial flavour
Disguising the sweetness
Of the fruit
To constrain, to restrain
To hide, to abstain
Conventional wisdom is
Quiet and nice
Polished and wise
Yet sometimes like volcanic
Magma the feelings burst
Out unconventionally
Proclaiming my spirit my
Pain my laughter my
Essence – unconventional
And wild – like
The howling wind
The ocean storm where
Everything is thrown aside
And gets very messy
And not very quiet and wise like
An English Garden
Hawaii's Kilauea volcano erupted,
as lava splashed over its cauldron!
The quiescent
Goddess awakes!
What once was a placid pool of liquid lava,
has morphed into a geyser of magma.
And it's ejecting molten plumes of rock
high into the atmosphere, lighting up the night.
When Gaia flows into the sea,
is she giving birth to the land?
Time contradicts;
permanency.
Wabi-Sabi 12-21-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wabi-Sabi
Empty the mirage of perfection
Whose shadow wears scars
Of perpetual broken rainbows –
Cracked rose petals –
Gilded edges joined by hibernation and spring.
A pilgrimage into amnesia
Timeworn victories fade into badges lost to time
Moonlight swallows the waning heart of morning
Sunlight gobbles up unfinished faces of the moon
Storms inhale fragments of sunbows.
Out of exploding ephemeral stardust broken beauty
As galaxies toss and turn creating quasars
Like waves sculpt eroding sands
In the orbit of perpetual opening ceremonies -
A journey into morphing excellence of golden seams.
And love grows to bloom then scatter rosehips
Into time’s silken wrinkles
Star born magma bows with gratitude
For unexplored shapes crafted on new shores
Where only eternity lasts forever.