Steven Stone last gave us Exercise. What ties these two poems together is Steven’s use of images strung together to lend suggestions. His narrative invites rather than dictates and engages the reader in a discourse on theme, meaning, and interpretation.
Farewell
By Steven Stone
By Steven Stone
Farewell to past
Mudras and mantras of
A pathetic age; fast as
the eye blinks they drown
in the one-brain juices;
Plastic delusions calcify
and in the soul gardens
the silver leaves kiss
humidly; morning vapor
rises on the dank hills,
the folly of insidious ways
roosting in the eye-wells;
brick by brick the walls
quick as cat-paws torn
to the ground; suffering
in day tones and night hues
of Monet’s morning rivers and
Vincent’s night swirls; there
is new preaching in the
woodlands, carried on the
heaving winds; amazed, I
fling my arms in the air, and
wave a last gasp that carries
me away, quiet as the dreams
of my youthbed and the icy
flakes in my eyes, eyes
that suddenly
See everything.
Pure magic from beginning to end.
Steven, I love the imagery in this poem.
Thanks for your comments. Any poems to show me?
Thank you. I like to experiment. Are you a poet too?