The Circle

Another poem plucked from my pile of poems written in this month of NaPoWriMo.

The Circle

 

The stones were not in place when I saw them

sleeping and full near the side of the road

 

heaven was abstract then and a dream away

we played with symbols and fetish objects for hope

 

only on the beach apertures began to open, flooding our senses

musical shells and iron tools were scattered on the sand

 

sleep came as night began to seep into the windows

the moon was radiant

 

I could hear the howling as soon as I got into my car

I could feel the dirt road under the wheels churning bones and the teeth of wild cats

 

we got out and began to search for the hunters

deer and bobcat, svelte badgers were circling at a wide distance

 

sight became extended , up to the stars following the long line of lights along poles

barriers become transparent, as we name the animals and call to each one

Max Wolf Valerio © April 20, 2013

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Another Poem from the Vault of April

Another NaPoWriMo poem from this month, do enjoy.

White Water and Red Flowers

prisons
broken
with
animal
longing

arrests
of
bomb
throwers
rage
and
red
flowers

wasps
wrap
a
face
in
pain

cat
feet
bloom
on
white
moon
flowers

hot
tears
long
for
white
wings

heaven
an
escalation
of
ghost
voices

fragments
and
planets
scaffold
creation

star
blue
water
still
as
bird
eggs

trombone
music
slides
wet
into
clouds

formation
and
dissolution
a
song
bends

white
moisture
fog
and
memory

mist
of
soft
vowels
trestle —

Max Wolf Valerio © April 3, 2013

Back to NaPoWriMo — a poem, Elements

So, this year, I am doing NaPoWriMo again, but with a friend.   We are emailing each other poems each day, often quite late.  But we are writing the poems!  Which is the purpose.  This year, I decided not to publish each poem each day.  However, I am going to publish a few.  And, here is the first – Elements.  

 

Elements                                                    

 

On the day of

Swords

          angles abruptly cancel a convergence of soft petals

 

on the day of

cups

           bowls of frankincense soften the pallor of starlight

 

on the day of

reason

       elevations of glass shards shoot up and obscure the open long field

 

on the day of

feeling  

            overflowing liquids immerse my feet

 

on the day of

disks

            the earth is torched by thieves

 

on the day of

wands

     the suffocation of children is silent and linked to wind moving upon soft                   openings

 

on the day of

wealth

           the green shoots are labeled and monitored as they levitate

 

on the day of

energy

           the algorithm opens the satellite’s interior light


Max Wolf Valerio © April 12, 2013