The Middle Way
by Matthew Zangen
Don't swing your regards for farther fences
in broken armor, begging notice
in blackened swaggers
blearing mercy hold you through melted days.
You must devour every blood purpose
caught fleeing hasty penance,
spurning lists of unearned charity
walking straight behind old footsteps.
Break brightly for the torn mountains,
blazing in artful madness
through haze and slipping stones,
spin a feral dance for no one else.
Posted on 07/24/2018
Copyright © 2024 Matthew Zangen
|Member Comments on this Poem
|Posted by Glenn Currier on 07/24/18 at 02:22 PM
Matthew, your poem teaches me to extract the nuggets of brilliance in each line. I have a tendency to look for my own version of coherence in poetry but I am learning to become a miner and be glad for the gems I find. Your poem reminds me of the work of another fellow poet: James Kenneth Blaylock, whom I am coming to appreciate more and more. Thanks you sir. https://b-m.facebook.com/James-Kenneth-Blaylock-179085162151801/
|Posted by Rob Littler on 07/28/18 at 06:03 AM
...and even then one is only half a wolf--or better yet--a shape-shifting coyote mid-morph...but, that is about the middle of a way.