Revenge of the First

Salvador Dalí, “Geopoliticus” Child Watching the Birth of the New Man, 1943

there’s nothing left to undress but the nose
a trinket the size of a dime, really, an anthill 
	of cosmic reconstruction 
a single-celled dinosaur and the fracture
in a memory that’s sent tumbling from 
its axis like the ribs off a sleeping bull

	{the earth doesn’t get to watch
	as miracles are born but 
	only contracts and expands
	in proportion to our consciousness}

like a vacant spindle that spins the centerpiece
of a woman on an unfinished brow, 
breasts like two floating castles, 
arcs of passive light under one 
	forgiving sun
in the flesh, in the corridors of a mirror, 
in the greedy hands of every overripe dreamer is
	a woman who bears witness but 
	bears often not less than a seed 
	of truth as silent as an eggshell

in the middle of this is nowhere…

{there is a voice louder than words 
that infuses all language with meaning}

and for every voice that extinguishes 
meaning there is another tongue 
abraded by a yoke of silence 
	more terrifying than time
	(or history)
like a star that’s been flattened 
by the reflection 
of its own sun

{the most chaotic among us have a 
knife in every fight but only one enemy}

there is no enemy
without the possibility
of rebirth

9 thoughts on “Revenge of the First

  1. J’ai toujours trouvé ta poésie exquise. J’aime votre langage fabuleux et précis, juste et avec un usage magique du mot. Et j’aime la façon dont vous enchaînez des images, des idées et des sentiments qui surgissent les uns des autres ciselés sous la forme d’un regard, mais pas à la demande d’une impossibilité, mais dans la contemplation de votre propre vie.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Merci beaucoup, Xyz. Dans des poèmes comme celui-ci, l’œuvre d’art laisse une image, une empreinte, au fond de mon esprit. C’est toujours l’impression esthétique globale que je veux communiquer. Et Dali me transporte toujours dans un monde rempli d’impressions dynamiques et surprenantes. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

    1. …the New Man sets his eyes to pearls
      through a stream of tweets like empty eggshells
      or the toll of a bell on a broken glass
      an analogue for chaos and a weeping reprieve
      as Maestro Salvador, no less than a
      pinch in the atmosphere,
      straddles both time and space

      Liked by 1 person

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