Wordle #53 March 23, 2015 “Puzzle”

Week 54

To whom do I owe

These explicit polarities?

Face first I cartwheel

Around the moon

Gaining velocity

Regolith prying

The retina’s corridors.

Cremation is always audible

Even when self-induced.


All I see is

The achromatized shadows

Of my former designations.

Sensing hell’s approach

Does not diminish the force

Of invasion.

The magnitude of my fragility

The insolent pirouetting of my heart

Is a persistent theme

And I moan like a hag

From behind the silk

Of a borrowed kimono.


I lift each piece delicately

As if opening a vault

And those sardonic corpses

Peering eyeless

Into the halo

Do not stir though

They have been summoned.

There are parts off ourselves

We ought not burn. 



12 responses to “Wordle #53 March 23, 2015 “Puzzle”

  1. Everything makes us who we are. Especially those piece we would like to forget.
    If we could only get to the moon without the burn…

    Also reminds me of a ballerina… the understudy, always practicing, but rarely on stage in the spot light.

  2. You caught me with the very first line. Maybe it’s wrong to do so, but when I stumble upon a poem that I can relate to from my very own perspective (completely selfishly) I tend to feel it more, and when you start out talking about polarities, and then go on to describe pretty much the feeling and mayhem at the very height of a hypomanic or manic rush… Well… I loved it, with a sick sense of fear in the pit of my stomach and a quick prayer to the Gods of medication that I won’t have to experience it again, I still loved it! I might have interpreted it in a very different way to what you intended, but I still loved it.

    • I think we all do CC I find myself drawn to certain writers because I can relate and it allows me to grasp a deeper meaning in the work. You are on point with your observations here and thank you!

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