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Showing posts from November, 2017

Flash Poetry: The Candle

I'm calling poems I publish on here "flash poetry," for the double meaning that they may be briefly illuminating, and indecent exposure. Lecture Now, what I have here is a candle. Some of you may not be familiar with candles; let me explain: They are made of wax, they are wick within and burned, they are light and flame. What I have here is a candle; Now remember that the candle cannot see herself. She sees only the shadows she casts, her distorted form, she cannot tell that she sees because of her own light. She doesn’t know: she is the reason we see as we have never seen before. Now remember, what I have here is a candle. To the candle, the world is melting; Or rather, she is melting, while the world grows up around her. How true, she thinks, that I will only shrink forever. The candle does not understand, she has melted before, and will melt again. Here is a candle. She wants to hide her twisted body under a bu

Flash poetry: Dive

Dive To plunge the depth of my Divinity-- like when I dove on the reef, dove deep to see the life there, tumbled through pressure to the dancing bottom, waves breaking above, tempestuous, relentless, and I drew small tube breaths, took a black rock from ocean floor to sky, pumping arms and aching back and heavy tank and surface breaks-- I held the underside of that rock, flashing Mother of Pearl, in the sparkle sun, and was happy just to breathe.