PHOTO COURTESY OF ANTHONY LUEBBERT
and the earth
feels as old as
dirt again
the violins
still mimicking the crickets
and not
the other
way around
the sky is the canvas
we will inject
kandinskily
with the raging crayola
120 pack of color-lustful-majesty
we burn with love
floating amongst the
cosmos
we are as illuminated
as we are
in love
as we are
slightly drunk – only
slightly
out here with the distant
stars
levitating in baskets
crushing
the blurs of
people like ants
with our
blinking
eyes
we distance ourselves
and holding our
breaths
we look at the
world
through the glass
cover above its
brushstrokes
and in the hangover
we descend
flickering flames
rejoining the torch of
humanity
COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012
PHOTO COURTESY OF ANTHONY LUEBBERT: http://www.anthonyluebbert.info/, http://www.monkfishjowls.com/
I can’t believe, I just re-posted this. All I can say is you hit it!
Thanks, Heather.
hope it’s o.k -had some trouble with w.press today..
great poem!
Lovely …timeless sentiment…what a lovely read….thank you for sharing
Thanks for always reading my stuff, Kirsten.
A lovely piece of work, love the violins line.
This is lovely – I came to your page via Tigergrove and very glad I did.
Thanks, Holly! Glad we connected.
You’re welcome and me too!
Nice. Love the way it speaks to heart.
Thank you. I was a little anxious about how people would receive this one, but it makes me feel good hearing you say it speaks to the heart.
“the violins
still mimicking the crickets
and not
the other
way around”
This surely resonated with me. Played the violin for a while….or tried to play the violin for a while. I always knew I sounded terrible but never could put my bow on it. It was the cricket sound. Thanks for reminding me.
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