I meander an ohm
resisting the conductor
who asks of me
one note
I cannot find it
in the crevasses
of my brain
deep in fissures
before I was born
in the dark womb of life
I began the search
amazing patterns rise
from my thought-prints
smooth pink bundles
with cleft palates
nerves where I am
so far down...
I see only hard-to-breathe
blackness--
it is not empty
this brain of mine
some halls rife with life
rifts spread the reef
the pink coral coralled
I swim the dark channels
searching for my voice
resisting the conductor
who asks of me
one note
I cannot find it
in the crevasses
of my brain
deep in fissures
before I was born
in the dark womb of life
I began the search
amazing patterns rise
from my thought-prints
smooth pink bundles
with cleft palates
nerves where I am
so far down...
I see only hard-to-breathe
blackness--
it is not empty
this brain of mine
some halls rife with life
rifts spread the reef
the pink coral coralled
I swim the dark channels
searching for my voice
How often does one receive a poem from a fetus!? And one so accomplished at that?. Kind of supports the idea that poets are born, not taught.
ReplyDeleteWhat exciting imagery! A bit heavy on the music there at the end. Not sure you want to go out with the blare of "trumpets". Your call.
So many thanks, Brian. I've missed your sharp eye. Maybe the spring and summer will release our muses. :0) Your work has been very good.
ReplyDeleteAnd, I will revise this. I think you're spot on. Time to tone it down.
Always,
Kay
So beautiful...the revised lines perfect. Really jaw-dropping work, Kay.
ReplyDeleteThanks, friend.
ReplyDeleteKay, the question raised in Brian's first reply could be answered by the implication of the title, which is one of the thematic foci of the poem.
ReplyDeleteNicely done.
Chen-ou
Chen-ou, it's so nice to hear from you. Thank you for you kind words. I hope you are well!
ReplyDelete~Kay