This first is a poem I wrote for our literary magazine. It did not get in. The mail informing me responded thusly, "Erik, we are sorry to inform (blah blah blah) However your characterization of light as iron was interesting." And my response in my head also follows thusly, "Lol." Anyway, I'll let anyone here read first and then when I write an actual blog again, I will lift the apparently very opaque veil. Listen to Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings while reading it, or maybe Mozart's Lacrimosa, or anything by Eric Whitacre, haha.
The Light in Wrought Iron Darkness
The light in wrought iron darkness,
Stifled keys to depose grained void
And breached heart hindering, speared,
The voyeur in white, sown fawn
Aggrieved. And oh the sunset, as
Locked, nameless tapering noise quells.
To me, diamond ocean rally grey
Genesis; strike azure flight the
Temptress. Retreat sever wings flow
Stride profound sinking melisma
Iced nothing cropped tunic catches
Foresight. Darkened with wolves and
Bullets, strophe grace in unending.
Spoken, Faust, injury paged. Call
Safety short from skyline. Forth
And with axiom in symphony,
Vanguard. Accent post destiny
And nurse, father in shelter begin.
In craft, rust, brave tumult sing.
Selfish trunk and starved ghost weave
Content, animal host so bray.
With star and breath, broken hedge,
Extends naught in calm, defy the deep.
And vision opaque, release sour
The ails, quenched tribune afflicted
With silence, proceed and drawn in
Affinity, bound ghost love, betrothal.
Alright, work time. Talk to you all later. Well, sudo talk to you all later...
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