Tuesday, July 16, 2013

The crack

The crack was deep the process long endured,
to straddle chasms opened in the mind,
as psyche struggled with the gaping yaw,
which threatened sense and sanity devoured.

As reason wept and held to chilling edge,
so angels whispered, breathless at the side,
and Soul did hover helpless, but ensured,
and Self could only grip as madness prised.

So cold the darkness sucked beneath belief,
as truth's black, frozen fingers held the hour,
and courage  brought horizon's hopes to birth;
embedded in the ice, love's fragile flower.

The crack was deep the process long endured,
to straddle chasms opened in the mind,
as psyche struggled with the gaping yaw,
to bring to being life's eternal power.


CRACK

3a : a narrow break : fissure <a crack in the ice>  
  b : a narrow opening <leave the door open a crack><cracks between floorboards> —used figuratively in phrases like fall through the cracks to describe one that has been improperly or inadvertently ignored or left out <a player who fell through the cracks in the college draft> <children slipping through the cracks of available youth services>

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6 comments:

  1. Wonderful. I've been branching out toward longer pieces of poetry. You make it look easy, but I know it's not at all. Great piece.

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  2. I like this. The repeating lines have impact.

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  3. This is a joy to read. Your phrasing, rhythm, imagery--so beautiful. If I had to, at gun point, choose my favourite image, it would be this: "as truth's black, frozen fingers held the hour." Perfection.

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  4. Oh love it. repeating lines. pentameters. exactly the poetry I love the most. Great write

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  5. "and Self could only grip as madness prised." Wonderful.

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