Still life with Ambered Eternity
an ekphrasis.
To read the poem in its intended format, rotate your phone screens 90° to the landscape/portrait mode.
Keep me
Tethered here, breathtakingly awkward and alive.ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ — Lucie Brock-Broido
βut sοft
Mexican light. Egyptian. Indian light ㅤㅤ godspeed
lisping head-oversㅤㅤ magically incised to the soul.
The only visage in sight is Venus’s ㅤ limbless ㅤ marbled torso
ㅤ ㅤ a fountain of beauty ㅤ photons spilt ㅤ o’erwhelming
ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ the basin ㅤ all o’er the canvas.
βut sοft
No Juliet on the balcony. ㅤㅤShe’s dead.
Only a phantasm of her ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ dissolving
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ& d i s s o l v i n g furthermore.
Lanterns of Paz. ㅤㅤOf Neruda. ㅤㅤ A bird of Paradise.
Explode all over the scene.
The colored shadows reaching out ㅤㅤare the shades
come forth the Hades ㅤㅤthe tendrils of their little worlds
tumbling about in the corners.
βut sοft
The light won’t ever arch the small of its back.
Like an ammonite slumbering in mud is for ever,
so is this subtropical penetration ㅤㅤfettered forever.
βut sοft
It must have rained impossibly Fauvist, distilled via ardor
ㅤ & it must have rained impossibly Fauvist, distilled via ardor
ㅤ & it must have rained impossibly Fauvist, distilled via ardor.
- in response to Thomas Schaller’s Vertical Light —
