Zenith to azimuth
By Simon Barget
Wed, 29 Aug 2012
- 1035 reads
5 comments
Engine purr, unfettered view,
my porous mind struck dumb.
Preserve this sandbaked range with washed-up words
the best I can.
Floating quarry, bare brown dust,
carmine, craggy, scoured and carved,
these tessellated terracotta terraces
in mauve penumbrae skyward merged.
The meridian faintly curved
as I levitate upon the earth.
Indecipherable, unmasked beauty,
fillip of arrhythmic fear;
who can know this primal land
which no man tamed, no nomad trod?
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Comments
Wow, some deep and intricate
Wow, some deep and intricate phrasing in this one.
tessellated terracotta terraces... I like the tongue twister here.
This is lovely, perhaps a little bit wordy but the words are well chosen to add to the poem rather than just being wordy for the sake of it.
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Is this a real place or in
Permalink Submitted by blackjack-davey on
Is this a real place or in an alternative solar system? I like the sun baked weirdness and the levitation and the washed up words, a disused quarry approached by motor car?
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