Friday, May 21, 2010

...and Through the Tornado

Coasting over snowy fields of an imitating world,
I yearn to feel a painful comfort from the earth
as my stripped form can no longer find warmth
buried within this barren space—blue is all I touch.
Cold lungs no longer satisfied with dreamy breezes
transiently blowing over my mouth and wings,
every piece of my body stops pumping as I fall
like a broken spirit into winds biting at my skin.
A sharp bitterness cuts through my chest
as I look down to see the unforgiving clouds
that will not soften my journey with hope
or reveal the divine on a fairytale mountaintop;
I am to be sent alone into the funnel of smoke.

My head is an earthquake, but the sky does not mind;
it torments placidity, equaling my mass and gravity
and the distance I measure to each end—equations
like fog could never support my unknown intentions.
I Inhale these wispy seeds of recycled water and doubt
and slip through the white cushioned apparitions,
as I find myself saturated, a snowflake built on dust.

Through the chaos, balance will bring life—death.

Darkness now engulfs my sight, as the tornado
tears the land like night around my pale figure.
I inherently delve into this ferocious wind
with freezing palms that split and fill with dirt;
I cup both bleeding hands around this earth
and mold the particles as a child packs snow
into a tight round ball—Is this believing?
I place my creation into the spiraling wind,
and it circles up through the storm and is thrown
past the clouds, cast over the wispy blue space
like a saturated dream that I can never keep;
as torn dust eternally swirls around a center,
ashes will beg the wind to burn once again.


human being said...


i'm cold
with a story never told
but old

a microcosm
simmering with
all the things
can hold


Anonymous said...

This poem blew me away like a tornado. It was so intense and rich that I felt as if I was there. Thank you for this awesome piece, Sean.

Jenny said...

Wow, I really like the richness and motion of this piece. A natural force feel. Your work is always so alive and refreshing; I love that.

Megan Duffy said...

Wow. It is so cool that your poem is situated right beneath jb's "Azul Fantasma." They seem to be speaking to each other.

Francis Scudellari said...

This piece caught me up in its restless energy.

Ande said...

This is good! The expression is honest and really speaks to me.

Thomas Sheridan said...

there is lots of motion here. Impressive.