
Image by Unknown Artist (circa 1560) / Getty Open Content Program
Submission to Visual Verse Anthology
(i) rising sleep that sunless swale smears its powdered tincture across my face I change buoyancy in notion’s tide an epilogue of bubbles regards my wake and a dead tree juggles the sun (ii) falling armour tinkles and rainbows hug the moon I’m bucked off by a nightmare her hooves like thunder at my cheek in my helmet seventeen stars like quilted eyeballs announce a landing pillow-short and spear-bound comfort drops away through sinuous silk to the ravenous calm of oblivion
I really like “falling” a lot. I find it interesting how our ekphrastic responses vary so much.
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“her hooves like thunder at my cheek” Brilliant lines Worms amidst a brilliant poem! 😁😊👏👏👌👌
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Thank you Ken!! You’re very kind.
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and a dead tree
juggles the sun
Wonderful!
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