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Sleep-Drunken Cadences In The World Heritage


The hemispheres of the cerebrum
split the dawn into two deviations,
stretch the vaults wide,
shift the rpm's over the depths

The circadian tentacles of the Day
embrace the inflow of energies
like mountain huts sheltering hikers
in the solar storms beneath Mårma

The coffee blends black
with the cat's deep-bodied seasame-seed purring
across the Dreamship's deck

Sun & Earth bring us forth,
sustain us,
realize themselves here, now

We are the scraps & grains of Earth & Sun;
their feats of artistry, their growing pains & mirrors:
their theirs is our ours;
we are we with Sun & Earth

The Night's pincushion
marks the total silence of eternity,
while Luna lifts the world's oceans
in its long breath; opens & closes

My brain's hemispheres cry their spider-thoughts
across the heavens;
their black-glinting ant theorems;
do rumble their bay-window-rasping kargyraa-khöömei axioms;
fissure in haste the plastered façades of The Old Welfare State

The Day stacks points of departure,
but the Night's branching paths
are sleep-drunken cadences in the World Heritage

We sink into Tellus' ample time
like amphorae in the Mediterranean's mermory;
rise in the loose drift of literature
like raptors and gliders on gravel-pit thermals;
lean back into the Night's heavy armchairs of oxhide
and continental drift;
tectonic in our undertakings




Fri vers (Fri form) av Ingvar Loco Nordin VIP
Läst 19 gånger
Publicerad 2025-02-01 15:52



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