A
frayed rope stretches garage to gate.
Albeit brief this time of year…
Newly
freshened clothes limps the midsection anew…while the gestation of the blowfly
magnifies the carrion’s count developing in you
Caustically
cantering throughout the heavy haze
Loping
about, searching for the shade of tree, to pause, replenish and reflect. To
pretend, a breeze caresses moist each sect of throat.
Cracked-earth
effusing illusory. Steam billows from cleaved swell, disseminating the
delusory—a striating course, distracted only by a rippling boil’s thrift of
pace—autonomically evoking predicated pants
Life
exists in the open
Yet
into the artificial we
Go,
ironically…to live
A
parched environs. Nuclei’s confound
coherence with understanding.
Allowing
moments of sweltering sweat, to shackle our worn and fickle flesh. Sheaths of
aridity distort the breadth of breath
From
pools within, without we’d be…like the dog with splayed tongue, unaware, just
how temperamentally distraught a dwindling summer can appear…amidst the
confines & cravings of unwavering, humid airs
Over at D'verse, Manicdaily is hosting Poetics, and has offered up the theme of Summer. Stop on over, definitely read her excellent article, and then enjoy the Summertime fare of poetry presented by the poets at D'Verse. While you're there, you'll no doubt get inspired to write a summer poem of your own. After you do, link it up and share with the others at D'Verse. Cheers.
Life exists in the open
ReplyDeleteYet into the artificial we
Go, ironically…to live... this works as a great metaphor as well.. now the heat finally reached the UK as well i heard.. can be exhausting..was scorching hot over here as well yesterday and has drained all energy from me by the evening.. oh and i loved the pools within...
Seeking solace from summer in artificially controlled air is quite ironic! We long to get out freely in Winter but upend those thoughts, running back in Summer.
ReplyDeleteI'll be glad to see the end of excessive heat but not the end of summer. Early autumn suits my aching bones. This captures that oppressive heat well Fred, and poor dogs panting to cool down.
ReplyDeleteLife exists in the open
ReplyDeleteYet into the artificial we
Go, ironically…to live...for me the poem hinges on this one verse or maybe this is just the one that strikes me with its truth....nicely done sir...
This is very haibun-like: prose with a haiku... very nicely done.. you're so beautifully unpredictable
ReplyDeleteFred, I really really liked this. I am someone who tends not to use A/C in my own apartment. And I hate that boxed-in feeling so that lines:
ReplyDeleteLife exists in the open
Yet into the artificial we
Go, ironically…to live
especially spoke to me. (Of course, I should note, I work in a completely climate controlled office, and I'm able to get out of the city a lot to a much cooler place!)
But there is such beautiful imagery so well slanted--the first stanza/paragraph with the frayed rope and clothes limping around the mid-section - but all the stanzas have cool stuff.
the predicated pants! i think you mean the breathing - with the swells and steam etc. but I couldn't help but think of Terry Pratchett's trousers of time - (that is good! in that it implies this whole splitting up of the universe--lots of levels.)
Anyway, enjoyed. Thanks for your kind words. k.
I definitely feel the heat of summer in this poem. The cracked earth, steam, parched environs, sweltering sweat, humidity. An image-rich poem, Fred. I like it.
ReplyDeletePainted quite the summer day with such a sweaty and humid display. Blah, hate humidity the most, but it beats snow anyday, at least you don't have to shovel it or it makes driving bad, as long as you have a working ac of course. Been there not a fun drive haha
ReplyDeleteRight from the beginning, the title, this grabbed me. I've lived in a lot of places...many of which were so humid in the summer. It just zaps me. Fortunate now to be in the high desert although the dryness is not kind to the skin.
ReplyDeleteLots of great galloping phrases and surgical slashes in this, Fred--mingling a sonorous feel of classicism with something less Romantic and more scientific. Enjoyed it much, especially the cantering and the rippling boil of the pot running over.
ReplyDeleteLife exists in the open
ReplyDeleteYet into the artificial we
Go, ironically…to live
Fred- cant tell you how much this resonated with me. So so true- and even more so as in the uk we are experiencing the best weather of the summer- all 2 days of it- yet tomorrow I have to go back to the box, the office. Also love the 'distraught ness' of a dwindling summer- those thoughts entering our heads of seasons pass and the return to colder climates - very very cool
this was really interesting stanza -
ReplyDeleteCaustically cantering throughout the heavy haze
Loping about, searching for the shade of tree, to pause, replenish and reflect. To pretend, a breeze caresses moist each sect of throat.
first i like the alliteration
then i wonder why you have to pretend that the breeze caresses?
this is really beautiful -
Sheaths of aridity distort the breadth of breath
this is so true -
temperamentally distraught a dwindling summer
cuz it gets hot, then you think it's over, it gets hot again... etc.
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