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Telescopes of gladden

by Angela Stevens

We held the telescopes of gladden up to creation
and deemed it unsuitable for viewing
Needing some reasoning and logic we catapulted
science to the forefront and echoed her passions like
A ferocious wave whipping the cliffs.

'we wish to expand' but have no measurements of present
We echo in our cave filled minds just as the candles burn down
Which direction; where to now; should we look back;
what once was, is gone: a meandering wisp of smoke
vanquished from the air by an unrepentant sinner/slacker {the same}
The hour glass is shattered: time abandoned, the sand is moist
And ready to bare something new.

But the seagulls are circling in mass amounts
looking for a glinting eye: bloodless and opaque
gaping intently; waiting for the gold encrusted talons
to tear deep {rupture this theory: expose this fraud!}
it's essence spills forth in neon smoke blades

And we are left in a squinting gaze at the descruction scarred sand;
we are left to walk upon in secular torment.

07/10/2012

Author's Note: Another oldie.

Posted on 07/10/2012
Copyright © 2024 Angela Stevens

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 07/13/12 at 01:55 AM

Excellent vocabulary and construction...excellent expression of message. Great title also. Goes on my favorites.

Posted by Stephan Anstey on 07/17/12 at 08:35 PM

I never had a telescope or any other tragic view of this minor creation It always seemed a blessing to know the moon less intimately and the stars, as only angry customers waiting in line for me to die.

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