Black pearls washed ashore,
runes carved in driftwood
from an island without trees,
pins on a map, epicenter
of a mythical nowhere,
solar tears whence the sky
drinks the sea dry.
Words about words,
tempt to paint a lash
in Mayan blue, no rhyme,
a wake so dark, a fall so deep,
awake or dreaming
lost in fog, a reality,
in questions of time spent.
Spitting out cupfulls of bile,
black lung haunted by fear,
look into the rising sun,
beyond shivering green,
a wordless answer lurks
where white whales spurt
and the moon drowns.
this:
ReplyDeleteWords about words,
tempt to paint a lash
in Mayan blue, no rhyme,
a wake
"Mayan blue" makes me think "this" too. It seems to connect with "solar tears" and "a fall so deep." Because the Mayans would paint someone Mayan blue and sacrifice him to the rain god by throwing him down a well.
ReplyDelete"look into the rising sun,/beyond shivering green" reminds me of the Native American Sun Dance. Tribes like the Sioux would perform this ritual while looking at a tree. Perhaps they looked through shivering green leaves at the sun--the Great Spirit who could give a "wordless answer" to any fundamental question.