Writing Prompt #189 “Bonus”

Phylors Collage .jpg

Art: Livestock Steve Bartlett. Far Right Image Michael Cheval

Where do dreams go once performed?

I fold marbles into scraps of sunlight,

thunderstruck and intermittent they collide.

The doors of the mind

slide from side to side

according to their conceit.

I take an empty book

and weep islands into the spine.

There is a beast in me,

that is both profound and docile

it neither sleeps nor rouses

but waits patiently

for the universe to undress.

I have too many answers.

Direction-less and without construct

I would never knowingly ask.

I follow each parachute

as it plummets to the ocean

sick with air, sick with inertia.

She practices voodoo by the seashore.

I strip down to the allegro, to the interstices,

to the hollows greedy with vibration.

I am reality, the application, the seer

pregnant and heavily veiled.

Where do words go when

they’ve outlived their sentiment?

I slip surreptitiously from

one constellation to the next

nirvana split and voluptuous like a peach.

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9 responses to “Writing Prompt #189 “Bonus”

  1. I fold marbles into scraps of sunlight – ??? how delicious is this image …. even without the visual, the mind that can see the heap of those multi-coloured orbs folding into sunlight is stunning!! Love this! which then means all of the rest, just follows suit Yves. I really am impressed with how you’ve read and interpreted this interesting collage/quote … so many stellar lines that just absolutely play, engage and interact one with the other …. gorgeous 💟

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