poem : the language of lunatics
Published February 17, 2005
It's in the quick, snap flash,
the blinding bright light of
your dime-store mirror,
I hold to the window -
I collect squares of daylight
and flash back a signal - the s.o.s.
of an effort to bring order to such chaos,
to this mad spinning world of Van Gogh's
Starry, Starry Night, all rich-hued and swirling.
It sings with rhythm and rhythm and rhythm,
a thing that beats a tune to my ear
that starts the brain tilt swirling
like a tea-cup on the boardwalk,
spinning so dizzying.
I am lost in the tilt of it, lost
in the broad stroke definition of the brush,
in the round, soft language of lunatics.
- poem : the language of lunatics
- Published: February 17, 2005
- Type:
- Section: Culture
- Writer: Sadi Ranson-Polizzotti
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Comments on this articleComments
shark: that's really quite beautiful. esp. the part about "a Tibetan prayer" and the question, "What shall be our alphabet, " which i just love. It is clever, beautiful, swirling and right in line with what i wrote... a nice duet. i could publish them together at www.dinnnerpartypoems.blogspot.com since they go together so nicely - giving you full credit, however you wish. email and let me know if yes and if so, how you 'd wish to be credited. i'd love to publish these together on the site...
cheers and thanks for reading and seemingly, understanding the chaos.
sadi
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I respond in semaphore:
Arms waving
a frantic ballet
trying to look calm
on a sinking ship.
What should I cast as my flags?
A bloody rag? Hand-colored? Woven in pain?
A Tibetan prayer? A paper wind-horse with an empty saddle? Silent thoughts that fade in the sun?
A white cloth? Take me as your prisoner? I surrender?
What shall be our alphabet?
Those swirling stars?
The dangers of our various altitudes?
The current temperature of cobalt blue?
The barometric pressure of a cypress missile?
They are safe and silent
and they say many things.
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