Poem: On a Sea Cliff

 

On a Sea Cliff

 

wind sieves through the raucous whirls of a cypress,

arms to elbows branching through rawboned fingertips,

cantabiles of them, crooked yet greedless,

smooth, salt-sprayed conjures of wood,

whose moon-pale breasts lift knotholes,

nude yet gowned with sorcery; and proud

over a snake-romp of roots wheeling through in earth.

at night, 

the cypress is a snare of shadow-strung stars,

and yet at noon it brims with wavy chalices,

majestic and celebratory, 

dramaturge of ecstasy.

 

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1/30 mods

9/6  ... "dramaturge" replaces "orchestrator"

8/28 "through rawboned fingers" repalces "into rawboned fingers" ... much better sound flow.  

8/24 ...mods several hours after posting .. wild energy, hard to bring out of the unconscious without ruining the magic.  might have. 

source of poem:  barkless old tree on cliff over beach in Santa Barbara (1980's)

Can't believe my country might go to civil war over Donald Trump... This could be the end of human civilization, due to all the nuclear weapons in the USA. (BOOM) ... do I blame the universe or blame humans?  I mean, the universe made life desirable, cruel, and needy all at the same time, sowing the world with struggle.  born into it.  on the other hand, humans can progress--or be ignorant, hateful fools.

'Why cast blame at all?' you ask.   (answer:  We can't progress and overcome, if we don't learn how to embrace blame"  (? idk)