Asbestos I can tell,
my lungs are working hard as
a sump pump in a clogged well
Though the cancer infiltration rate is currently low,
my body count white cell ineffectiveness is bound to grow
Asbestos I can tell,
my future breathing capacity
don’t look so well
Got my lungs working overtime
in this here deep underground coal mine
Down below, it’s dark and damp ...
a claustrophobic cancerous shroud
is starting to dim my survival lamp
A persistent bout of black seam consumption
is constantly keeping me sick
Just about right now,
I really could use another cancer stick
Although, I know my lungs
are working overtime as it is ... even still
Asbestos I can tell,
Death is gonna have a few job openings
now the road at the textile mill
The way stretches forward, the infinity path
Every shape well defined, by the certainty of math
Great ferns surround, curved in huge Fibonacci arcs
While trees, gods of forest, are discontinuities in bark
The air is still and it's gentle touch oddly cool
And a visiting writer would lie about a pool
And a nymph. Or a vast Aire kingdom on high:
Beauty's present as the trees, though concealed from the sky
I followed her here, for where else would she dwell
Not hidden away in some black and white cell
The most perfect line, shaping me and my soul
Once my love now my breath, my quest takes a great toll
This cool jungle is our home as I try to define her:
I'm a textbook on the harm of obsession's spur.
Hand of power, heart of whimsy, tamer of
mighty rivers. Rivers of initial learning,
nurturer of ancient gardens, gardens in
their fabled beauty hanging yet in utter
freshness in the fecund hearts of poets.
Poet at heart cooped solitary, hostage of
life's fickle fortune. Fortune dreamed
with vanished glories still as green as
tendrils twining. Twining on to memories
heart-held, held while tending patch of
foliage, muttering through graying mustache,
"You're soft muffins, crumbly cookies,
munchies in my white cell circle; circle
stony though surrounds me, I'm still palm tree,
brave, steadfast; that you're not, but bush."
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.