I want to wake
to a poem on my tongue
like Himalayan salt
on a sliver of truffle
effervescent verse
that lifts me
from these shopworn
clobbering times
like Veuve Clicquot
in crystal flutes
I want to walk
with a rhythm in my bones
like Thelonious Monk
befriending dissonance
through sybaritic street fests
where the roasted yam
and sweet corn waft
like silken threads
around the lovers
who’ve forgotten
all they know
of politics
I want to sail
on a schooner named for me
through Adriatic breezes
for the joy of overturning
the misnotion forged by masses
disenchanted who
think cringing
is heroic
and that constant
anniversaries of past suffering
bring us anything but more
I want to fly
with caravans of djinns
transparent beings born
of flame, light-headed
never fossil fueled
complicit in the comet’s arc
indifferent to the myth
of dust to dust
and when my ashes
coalesce with all who congregate
in halls Valhallic or Brahmanic,
shamanic, histrionic—take your pick—
I shell scatter luxe poétique
through the coral ululations
of the dreamer who hears
oceans when he wakes
~~~
© Elaine Stirling, 2016
Jane said:
Love this! Yes!!
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elainestirling said:
Thank you, Jane!
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talkingearth2014 said:
Poetry doesn’t get any finer or transcendent than this Elaine!
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elainestirling said:
Thank you kindly, R. Top o’ the season to you. 🙂
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Ray Sharp said:
beautiful, lush, dreamy
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elainestirling said:
Thank you, Ray, much appreciated! Still feeling the enchantment from your “Jolie Laide”, which our mutual friend, Mikels, shared on FB. The imagery, omg! 🙂
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Ray Sharp said:
thank you kindly
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Ray Sharp said:
Elaine, your sonnets are exquisite. I will go back to read them when I have time and attention. — Ray
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Tielle O'Glinda said:
Delaine – ditto what was said above – plus, I could swear I heard Enya’s Orinoco Flow playing in the background! Very evocative . . .
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Tielle O'Glinda said:
Forgive the typo on your name Elaine!
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elainestirling said:
What a lovely association, Tielle–thank you! I listened to Enya’s song and can see what you mean. It has a similar aquatic relentlessness to the rhythm, which I always loved. The first couple stanzas came to me while walking briskly along the lake shore…and the final two came the same way, only a year later. (a long time between with “no flow”) 😉
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