of nightmares and hallowed heroes,
there is a glazed moonscape of wonder,
bursting the extraordinary
out of the mundane.
It used to be a recurring dream,
beckoning me to the straits of memory.
Such architecture and atmosphere
has lured shamans, explorers, and adventurers.
It's been bottled up:
passion taken form,
a figure standing in the hollow
sanctuary for the captivated.
Bound by a tie others know not:
purpose and destiny.
Wrap it around you.
I crave you,
body and soul.
The rest is silence,
a question of despair
marking the hours
forevermore.
3 comments:
we need to get back to that wonder...let it be beyond our dreams and color our reality...ha. something that wild can not be bottled.
I am not usually a fan of poetry collage, (mostly because it is so often banal)but I really liked seeing this poem in that form, and found the visuals actually enhanced it. A great blending of things we fear and things we need, of awe, wonder, and just a bit of something darker.
haha, funny story, Brian - after I wrote this (pure whimsy, really), I saw a TV miniseries called Alice (2009) wherein bottling the unbottle-able is the premise. It's inspired much later work!
And hedgewitch, I am delighted you enjoyed it! I only began collage poems recently, a marriage of my two previously separate favorite hobbies. Cheers!
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