|
numbers don't count
by Kyle Anne Kishi stood long enough
to trip the visions
of envy into clamorous
waves of thunder,
clashing from ear to ear
inside my head.
trip, fall, do it all,
never fail, never falter
because fault lines
become bones
of steel, stealing
the lifeblood
from my own
carcass, careening
down
to where numbers
no longer count.
assaulted dreams
have become
the salt under
my feet
but they matter not,
because my dreams
are something
no man, woman
or child
can pull asunder. 01/01/2007 Posted on 01/01/2007
Copyright © 2024 Kyle Anne Kish
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 01/01/07 at 08:03 PM So many echoes and counter echoes here-- from Yeats to Biblical. Fine use of that-- and somehow the tone is one of innocence--almost like spipping over the lines an a childhood sidewalk. The "carcass" is startling-- that is the point, and the "victims" that collect-- but yes, dreams...in my understanding here, (and to me in general too)-- are always fresh and whole and ready to begin anew. |
| Posted by Alisa Js on 01/05/07 at 07:40 PM I agree... and from where I am standing.. somewhere out here in the middle of the Pacific Ocean...lucid dreams are the best!...lol...;-) |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 02/11/07 at 06:21 PM I agree with all of the above comments. This piece is just so good- from the imagery to the form- every part. I really enjoyed this write- a very excellent read! |
|
