Friday, May 9, 2014

Fire of thought

Fire of thought is smoking at the serried edges of  sanity,
twinned with madness in dual, Janus floating shadows,
deliquescent coiling as the oars of hope firmly bend still water;
the scenery of consciousness bright coloured by depravity.

Faithless Self blows mists across hope's sullen, stinking ponds,
fuels that loud cascade of potential and endless possibility,
listens for the trumpet of delusion's harsh and bitter melody;
life's gramophone still turning, blaring on and on and on.


  1. As deep as the ocean floor - and yet I was just watching a program that was explaining the life that lives there by the 'grace' of the earth's core seeping through fissures. Not all needs light. And yet light, enlightenment is something humans seem to crave.

    Thanks for your visits. I'm a tad slow returning visits of my own, with having my grandchildren wearing me out most of the week :) ~Jules

    1. That's okay. I find with travel and demands I don't have much time either. In Malawi it is just the chaos of the place and in Handorf it is like you, grandchildren. x

  2. This poem flows beautifully. Well wordled!

  3. Deep stuff indeed. I think the penultimate stanza sums up the flow.