Plato | Fractured
after Shaun Turner
First | somnambulant | is | accidental random single file
| through grass | meandering | sage and sand | then |
Then! small yellow fire | shadow casting
| here is another | age birthing
again | fate’s bloom open | rain descends once |
to calm twice | now for the churning | third time | the
thunder
thunder
erupts into | river fierce | & wild against boulder thump |
dark |
dark |
earth | beneath the surface | seed | takes root | a fractal |
Radicle rebirth.|
This | subterranean womb — mysterious | of night | made |
rock serves as | bulwark | against turbulent | tide
holding power | brings | new in life to | gathering
| many | with allowance of soul | allowing Refuge | retreat
wait again | or sing the melody of water |
and puppets |born of firelight |
on a wall | telling stories |
12 thoughts on "Plato | Fractured"
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Flicker, flicker. Super cool. Makes me think, ‘if we’re chained to spelunking, at least make the shadow stories good’. But poem also encourages onward c: “takes root”
Thank you inge.
Whew! 😀
love:
this experiment you did with fracturing, especially the emphasis given in the way you broke this one:
“This | subterranean womb — mysterious | of night | made |”
& love:
“or sing the melody of water |
and puppets |born of firelight |
on a wall | telling stories | “
Thanks pam.
Yeah, It’s again fascinating
( every time) how form influences
The movement.
rock serves as | bulwark | against turbulent | tide
loved that fracturing so much,
I usually called it “Eldridging” – in any case, your choices were sweet.
This has such a cool rhythm, Coleman. I love the way it moves.
“small yellow fire | shadow casting
| here is another | age birthing
again | fate’s bloom open | rain descends once |
to calm twice | now for the churning | third time | the
thunder
erupts into | river fierce | & wild against boulder thump”
So cool!
The structure you use captures the fracturing. It feels like a scene from a psychedelic film. love this, Coleman!
“or sing the melody of water | or puppets … !” Love this.
This poem feels to me like one of those squares (I mean this as a compliment) where the numbers are in a scramble and you can move them around to make order in a 1234 fashion, or work the numbers backwards, or skip every other, it’s all a matter of skill and curiosity. Very nice!
You are out there in the stars now, Coleman, you and Shaun, floating through space and time, receiving the light.
Coleman,
I believe you have created a karst canticle!
I love it.
Wow! I will accept that.
Thank you Bud.
OK then. 😀