(i salvaged some images from a poem i posted under "experiment of sound" on TPS--i liked them and i didnt want them wasted on that poem)
Autonal II
I crush
elder bones
like decayed
leaves
to an iron
heel--
the day's
tread halts
beneath it.
The swift
of my hand
is Inertia--
look,
look here
upon it:
watch
the Rose
implode;
watch
the Scythe
drip death
into
the cracks
of my palm.
Wake me
or
not:
My snore
crumbles
towers--
And my morning
breath
is Chernobyl sour.
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5 comments:
the reader doesn't necessarily need to understand your title. Sometimes, though, i use the title as a crib note for the poem--to give a little context. i looked up "autonal" and found car sites and one metallica site, but didn't figure out the meaning.
these stanzas are crackling--lots of sound. i'd like to read the TPS poem you referred to. they also seem to be threaded together with a theme of mortality and decay, though i'm not sure exactly what the thread is.
hmm i also looked up autonal, and found spanish car sites haha.
i just made it up actually
i love the end especially--morning breath chernobyl sour. a vetebre of of images that evoke god-like presence. very dark but somehow not menacing, horrible, or depressing. that in itself is a feat of writing. anyway, you can't leave it mid-way, as one can with many, many poems (esp. on tps). you made up autonal--automatic and tone? pretty good!
this is actually the 2nd part of my series "autonal"
i'm glad you liked the end, i made it a point to myself to use chernobyl in one of my poems because i find it to be a very strangly interesting topic, and the word itself is beautiful but has immediate connotations of terrible things.
cherynobl (or however you spell it) flows so well with sour... who knew?
Have you read Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge? I think you'd like the style... it's very mystical and visual...
you should check it out if you haven't
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