reverse the telescope for a creepy inversion of sense
that depicts the starving moon on a unexpected draw down.
these are the incandescent trumpet trills that nail your heart
onto a carpet that is only shagged in the pink of memory.
somewhere in a wood that is the crayola of forest green,
we hear the dark tremolo of gnomes that are prone to biting.
this is a culture of scary stories that ascend into the heaven
of the things unarticulated that make you cry at bedtime.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
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I really love your last line.
ReplyDeleteGerry,
ReplyDeleteLove this one!
Alex
WOW!!!!
ReplyDeleteHow do you play with words Gerry?
And you know what? was hoping to read more of that.. seriously.. 4 paras this time wasn't enough!
But amazingly written..:)
"...that nail your heart onto the carpet that
ReplyDeleteis only shagged in the memory of pink oh yeah!
Love that entire 2nd verse Gerry.
This metaphysical poem on insomnia is amazing!
Gerry, this is flippin' brilliant!
ReplyDeleteYour expression: "reverse the telescope" says something about your style in a wider sense, I think. You use your telescope in this way and this makes you see things that might not make sense at first; but, eventually, they grow visable and you gain a larger understanding of them, which cannot be gained if the telescope had been turned the conventional way. That is the impression I get.
yeah, but what an adventure! and they don't always bite. Excellent! `Rick
ReplyDeletebrilliant, I love your imaginative way with words in this...
ReplyDeleteI think it is very important to a writer, to be able to end their writings with words that will hold the reader in their hands. So their words will remain in the readers head, for longer than a fraction of a second.
ReplyDeleteYou often managed to do so Gerry.
And yes, I am liking your words written; you.
ReplyDelete