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by Dane Campbell

Syllabic unsolvable little riddle,
your bitter brutal blade began to whittle
my skin and bone and marrow into bow and wood and string,
to make a brittle fiddle break when drawn upon to sing.


Posted on 02/04/2014
Copyright © 2024 Dane Campbell

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Laura Doom on 02/04/14 at 06:17 PM

That's an intense sonic landscape; drawing a blade that is not drawn for a song that bows to being unsung...

Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 02/04/14 at 11:55 PM

Alliteration allied with alchemy acclimates the bent bow into this fascinating filigree.

Posted by Johanna May on 02/05/14 at 11:16 AM

so tense I hear the crack, sensory poem that might just break.

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 04/16/14 at 04:18 PM

Brilliant construction...message, Dane. Wish I had written this...glad you did. Heading straight for my favorites. :)

Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 04/22/14 at 03:30 PM

Every word has its place, a pleasure to read aloud, - favorite phrase- "to make a brittle fiddle break". Into favorites. Thanks for this gem.

Posted by Jody Pratt on 05/13/14 at 04:14 AM

Excellent. Fun to read. Everything in it's place. Inspiring and imaginative. Well done.

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