Tags
2013, 6*, attention, Batman, black bat, breathing, cape, cowl, fingers, identity, letting go, red, sky, thinking, tornado
whirlpool
agh
I’ve fallen into a whirlpool
created by an oil-dark tornado
whiplashed through the haemoglobin sky
quick
I will spread my cape
and throw my arms wide
reaching allwhere with still fingers
my utility belt is useless
I need to think deeply in my cowl
that the ears stick up to no avail
of course
that’s the answer, it’s easy when you know how
my eyes look downwards
and I travel down through the whirl
and remember to hold my breath
originally published in the Poetry Jar 310513; with thanks to Bruce Ruston
————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
attention wormhole: day off
Batman wormhole: Bat-Shadow
breathing wormhole: oh-pen too
identity & letting go & red & thinking wormhole: I could step / more open
sky wormhole: oh-pen
AH! Effin’ A, the whole first stanza caused something large to drop in my chest. And made me woozy….
but it’s the
“reaching allwhere with still fingers”
that made my heart ache and laugh at the same time. That thing a good poem does to you, where you have to spit your milk and swallow it simultaneously. Or something….
Anyway, thanks for sharing again. This whirlpool sped me deep and deeper moved me down the depths of deeply, out of the shallows and into something that Johnny has talked about:
deeper into not another, but “our own dimension”.
I’ll look into the Poessays but it may be some time, as I’m traveling today. I look forward, as always to our efforts and our talks, which have been so rewarding.
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