child

I was born in the thunder birthed to the whip of the wind my father was known as the weather a cloud was my mother the womb and I would ride -saddled- the storm bucking the blitz strikes of lightning raining on earth down below I am cumulous I am cirrus I am the feather …

a small cartography

Poem #77 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction the map of the world can only be drawn in dreams a cartography that sketches who you are where you have been where are you going the paths of the spirit fade …

unseasonal snippets

a soughing wind slides by muttering susurrous hints and secrets buried beyond hearing within the prolonged hiss of its passing secrets are a cold confrontation suited best to the grey and cloud of winter but here they are insinuated like chill galls under the skin of midsummer night by a slithering breeze that cares not …

evening cloud

cloud a) I have sprackled you grainy but so pretty you could have been through a telescope but I saw you in my back yard I saw you hanging over my back yard cloud b) cloud blue whoever thought to catch a cloud like you are so like to a) perhaps you are a treatment …

redeemed

Poem #76 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction poorly badly descriptors of the life he lived the life he was sinner law breaker he is a low one yet ... yet ... the work he does with ink flows like …

from another

Poem #75 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction it is a sky from another time I see basking beneath the sun that shone was it yesterday yesteryear did it shine so bright on the first day above another sky basking …

a gleam in shadow

there is no shine like the shine that glints a knife under the moon like a star hid within a shadow do not approach the stellar shine that knifes beneath the moon the shadow waits the shadow in the shadow © Frank Prem, 2017 November 2017 Poem #36: evening cloud 140418

…of a cloud

the sound of a cloud is a lash of the wind singing treble in high registers the sound of a cloud is three birds frantic fleeing the storm that boils close behind the sound of a cloud is a rain .............................'.......''.........d .............................................................r .............................................................o .............................................................p striking another rain ............'..''........d .............................................................r .............................................................o .............................................................p striking rain ........................'..............d .............................................................r …

forgotten : the night

I was the forgotten one the day the sun forgot left churning in the dark no ray of light no beaming smile ever found me the chill of colour noir I made my own turned my back on belated entreaties turned my back to sorry sounds I turned my back on day I claim the …

fire-po

Poem #74 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie. Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction I spoke into the flames I spoke the words soft lest I should hear them aloud the flame responded to the sound I made shivered and plumed in a swirl in a …