Poem #21 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.
Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction
sceptic
and cynic
he sets a monument
an altar
of sorts
inside it
he places his soul
he turns
to all the quarters
and summons
the demons
aži dahāka
beel-zebub
div-e sepid
freud
but they don’t do much
root around with fire
jab ineffectually
with lances
thoughts
and foul intentions
they don’t come close
he turned to mythology
and summoned
magi
shamen
and witches
jung
offensive cackling
putrid exhalations
hopeful incantations
they danced
built magic fires
analysed
but none
none
could find the strength
the potency or power
to move
that poet’s soul
© Frank Prem 2017
Bachelard and me Poem #22: a literary image
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👍 nice , good read. Keep up the good writing.
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Thank you.
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