I want to know if frogs (between small throat booms and balloon eye blinks) plait star beams with reed blades making mattresses for their frothy spawn. Or perhaps, their sixth sense skin demands shiny nova caresses ... shouldn’t we all? A masseuse for our dreaming.
The background to this post is long and complicated. It is from 3 Miz Quickly prompts – all connected. We had to find lines from a number of poems that we liked (perhaps twenty) and mishmash them all about, giving credit to the various poets. I did this but didn’t come up with anything of a quality I was willing to post. I included Sylvia Plath, Lorca, Leonard Cohen, Robert Frost, Rainer Maria Rilke, Pablo Neruda and Gwen Harwood.
After all that, we were to seek inspiration from what we had concocted and compose a poem of our own. I’m afraid, in the end, this really only responds to one of the lines I chose and it’s from Lorca:
“on account of my shadow
the frogs are deprived of stars”