night is here again
by Angela Stevens
the shallow tree of yesterday
yawns how it forgot to stop the
angel from hitting the ground,
there, a bloody mass bare, melted
to the pathway like the remains
of a molten kiss between sky and
earth, quite the thud, it taunts.
under starry skies I’m making paper angels
and writing on them: nonsense, the things only
silent speakers would know:"he remembered himself
as carefree""he could picture the birds hitting
the sky one by one""the ink blots all read the
same here""our beloved plan will fail""he knew
he couldn’t read an archangels mind""the land
of god is blood spattered""because I just can't
forget"-don’t, don't forget the head space.
Do not pull me clear of the wreckage;
A ghost once told me of his thesis,
on the manipulation of worldly beings
and the form of how human behaviour will
always end up in tears and near death
experiences, with folded paper, black
and white photographs and the proper
understanding as to why we have ribs.
All comes down to the fact:
the lacking symmetry of a crumpled
paper angel (all of us, asymmetrical).
Posted on 06/11/2011
Copyright © 2020 Angela Stevens
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Charlie Morgan on 06/11/11 at 11:54 PM|
...boy, errrah man, errrah wow...angela, this is some work! i was/am knocked-out. what a gem. heavy with beauty in language...don't mean to appear maudlin so i'll stop.
|Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 06/12/11 at 01:03 PM|
to gaze upon these words is to be instantly charmed and intrigued by their offbeat rhythms and spells, the asymmetry of which would right anyone's ship.
|Posted by Jody Pratt on 01/09/12 at 11:05 PM|
You etch words in the back of my eyes and force me to look at language from a new perspective. There is so much here that resonates but one line in particular stuck out for me, "Do not pull me clear of the wreckage." If this is all you wrote I would still find a number of ways to look at such a phrase and be left only wondering what you could really mean.
|Posted by Tom Goss on 08/13/12 at 02:19 PM|