Copyright © 2019 · here for wonder by Gail Walter -- All Rights Reserved

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Resuscitate

August 28, 2019

 

 

It will not budge

It’s dead in the water

Silvery bloated

On the surface

Floating Lifeless

…But I love it

 

I love it with my eyes

And what’s behind them

The neural web of me

Slime and sublime

Inside my skin

Behind my eyes

 

I love it with my heart

All of its butchered 

bright redness

It’s rhythm, arrhythm, 

It’s beaten immediacy

 

I love it with an incapacity

To ignore

An intuition of attention

A horrible compulsion

A twisted addiction

 

I love it with my fingertips

That itch to find it

Among the open tabs

Inside my bookmarks

 

My love, my only.

My dear, dear

dead poem,

That no-one

With just a mere mortal 

Wisp of a glance

Will resuscitate.

 

 

Art: Kyaw Tun | Unsplash

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WONDER

If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence. 

George Eliot

November 13, 2019

October 31, 2019

October 31, 2019

October 30, 2019

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September 18, 2019

August 28, 2019

August 21, 2019

August 14, 2019

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