Lame sunrises and midday sunsets
Fangs in words and perils in laughters
Sweet archs of smiling fires and silky shouts in talking forests
I come from the bitter of cobstones paved down the coalfield
Broken lutes and snoring cork oaks
Freckles of lipstick and suckles of martinis
A bosom of pounds, a pavilion of dangling beryls and a breech of honeycombs
I come from the lust of the chaste lass
White moths and black mushrooms
Coffins of treasures amid covens of night mayors
Whispers of thunders and creaks of ant-steps
I come from the stones in the chicken's gizzard
Shards of fate and vials of morphine
Ponds of rheum and fogs of cold incense
A stew of scimitars, a brandise of stone and the heathenry of whitesmiths
I come from the furs in the abattoir
Sonnets in pools of ink and grace in quills of peacocks
Sequels of black weresheep and bugles of lean shepards
A wit of one accord and a grit of a myriad taut
I come from furnace that boils the molten poetry soup
Categories:
whitesmiths, identity, meaningful, mirror, symbolism,
Form: Free verse
Villanelle: Ask not What the Devil’s the Devil !
Ask not What the Devil’s the Devil
Back to back with the Holy Being
When Good snakes what leads not to Evil
God! Why can’t the doG be forged on anvil
Black sparks from Whitesmiths black doG yelling
Ask not What the Devil’s the Devil
Einsteins Heisenbergs delved atom’s navel
Yet true Truman dropped bombs without trying*
When Good snakes what leads not to Evil
Ask not why go(o)d GOD won’t quell Evil
Nor why BAD dab at GO(o)D reigning
Ask not What the Devil’s the Devil
Good needs Evil much as God the Devil
Watch male-fe-male in abject writhing
When Good snakes what leads not to Evil
Only Time makes not the picture stand still
The end of Day lets drop the ceiling
Ask not What the Devil’s the Devil
When Good snakes what leads not to Evil
* He could have dropped them on some deserted Pacific atoll first to warn the Enemy.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Categories:
whitesmiths, evil, god, war,
Form: Villanelle