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Man Poem One

by Bruce W Niedt

 

A cough in the sleep of life brought me here..

               Among suddenly in the ages of earth I am born,

                                       belched out from the warm sea,

                                            gasp from the rocks as the

                                            fish are my fathers,

                                       regurgitation of wet new fur,

                                                    the flashing sea,

                                       the gleam in the dry sun.

 

A pain in the breast of earth are my bones.

                       The calcium seams in layers,

                                        the fossil-heart,

                        the movement of the old, dark

                                     shadow, my father’s

                              teeth, the struggle of form in

                                              the primitive,

                                        the piled rocks,

                                        the hard sky.

 

                                                               And I

Uncoil, sweep my self over sun-scoured sand,

             My scales erect with crust of seasalt,

            feather-fur stands on my back-like-needles,

                   limbs grow taut with muscle

                                                           and

                                                               I

                                                         stand,

                                       earthen my brain,

                                       the rocks and sun

                           brown, the world posed on

                        a stone-killed valley, crushed

                        rubble down the gray-bitten cliff,

                        an immense

                        listening.

                                                   My eyes spring from

                                                   my cliff, my valley

                                      lies quiet and

                                      brown, my sky rumbles

                                      blue from its dome, and I

                                                                     scream

                         I scream like a first and last animal,

                               on the dry, laughing land.

 

 

[1971]                      

 

 

 

 

             

   

06/25/2003

Posted on 06/25/2003
Copyright © 2024 Bruce W Niedt

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Agnes Eva on 06/25/03 at 05:33 PM

glorious rise of man, you must have felt magnificent writing this 30 years ago!

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