The Inner Land
Close your eyes and take a deep breath
feel power beneath your own skin
a bitter scent rises from the garden's wet
seeps in, like the rustle of a robin.
You are relaxed, and the world is sound
shivering trees and a sussurate stream
you feel power in your feet flowing from the ground
soft air leads your neck to a dream.
Your body, a fortress, all gabled stone
an entryway is your lungs and ribs
you stand in the interior campus alone
guided by your ear-like jibs.
For this is a fortress that silently moves
under the guidance of a aural tide
sail into fantasies which tongue-and-groove
where stately treasures abide.
Cacophony strides in the garden gate
bringing a sour note of despair
should you open your eyes, t'would be tempting fate
though nothing so evil would be there.
Still you cling to your auditory rock
and whistle blithely through the fear
the arctic wave of air is a shock
as the creature presses near.
Amass every mullion, and stanchion and stone
to feed the artillery's maw
pointed at the creature that chills the bone
and cringe as the cannons guffaw.
Every weight we would bear on the beast
only flows through Evil's sieve
If we only could prick it, or nick it at least
we could feel a moment's peace.
The sound emanates like a series of gears
grinding themselves into rust
as the Evil's oppressiveness rings in your ears
turning your hopes to dust.
You think of the treasure of the Bodhisattvas
awaiting beyond clouds of fear
but for gyring cacophony's unerring pistons
You quit! Open eyes, and it disappears.
Copyright 2013 hgl
Close your eyes and take a deep breath
feel power beneath your own skin
a bitter scent rises from the garden's wet
seeps in, like the rustle of a robin.
You are relaxed, and the world is sound
shivering trees and a sussurate stream
you feel power in your feet flowing from the ground
soft air leads your neck to a dream.
Your body, a fortress, all gabled stone
an entryway is your lungs and ribs
you stand in the interior campus alone
guided by your ear-like jibs.
For this is a fortress that silently moves
under the guidance of a aural tide
sail into fantasies which tongue-and-groove
where stately treasures abide.
Cacophony strides in the garden gate
bringing a sour note of despair
should you open your eyes, t'would be tempting fate
though nothing so evil would be there.
Still you cling to your auditory rock
and whistle blithely through the fear
the arctic wave of air is a shock
as the creature presses near.
Amass every mullion, and stanchion and stone
to feed the artillery's maw
pointed at the creature that chills the bone
and cringe as the cannons guffaw.
Every weight we would bear on the beast
only flows through Evil's sieve
If we only could prick it, or nick it at least
we could feel a moment's peace.
The sound emanates like a series of gears
grinding themselves into rust
as the Evil's oppressiveness rings in your ears
turning your hopes to dust.
You think of the treasure of the Bodhisattvas
awaiting beyond clouds of fear
but for gyring cacophony's unerring pistons
You quit! Open eyes, and it disappears.
Copyright 2013 hgl
I am so glad I decided to spend this early simmer morning with your poetry, finding the ones I have missed, like this. A masterpiece.
ReplyDeleteI'm gonna repost this in YAP to see how quickly our favorite troll takes to remove it. Also, because YA! doesn't even READ appeals anymore. They never respond or restore the most valid questions.
ReplyDelete