Tag: Myth
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Three Sisters
Three Sisters They talk and theytwist memories outfrom the aether, spin-ning them over andagain into new dramas —three-headed destinyeach one shedslight; a spotlightof information. Theyare like one mindthinking over the pastforming opinions,laughing at long-forgotten disagreementsfinding new groundto stand on
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When I Was Twenty
I read a poem with the line, when I was twenty, and I wanted to start a poem, with the line, when I was twenty. . . until I soon realized that when I was twenty, I wasn’t much different as now, in my late thirties. Still, with the same afflictions, the same passions, the…
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Profit
And your body is the harp of your soul, And it is yours to bring forth sweet music from it or confused sounds. And the wind and pine combine to whistle a melody, but what of that melody if there were no ear to hear ? and what is the mind, but the engineer of…
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Peel the Skin
If when the skin peels away you bleed orange slices and mango sweat, then you’ve been spending too much time with the clouds. If, however, you find the image of a snake, or other cold-blooded reptile you might look in a mirror to find the septuagenarian you staring back at you— this is when the…
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Where’s Dad (A Trickster Poem)
Where’s dad?My daughter says, standing halfway upthe stairs in her snow-white pajama gown rubbing the crust from her good-morning time eyes. I don’t know, says my son who’s sitting on the couch, takingadvantage of my absencewith his head buried in his phone. She whines a little andscurries down the stairs to run and jump on…
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It Could Be Raining/The Myth of the Moderns
It could beraining, but it’s not — we both know this, the squirrel and I, it’s just the wind playing the trees. The ancients of modernity those genius’ of invention — they could turn on the tap with the sound of their voice. They also believed that corporations were people A couple of poems from…
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The World’s Dad (Sunhands)
Sometimes I think about wrapping my arms around everyone I see. Give the world a great big hug. Tell you all I’m sorry for not being there, for leaving you stranded, so all alone. But, dad’s here now. I got a little caught up in all that I smote, then I tried to keep you…
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Joe Campbell
I had a dream I was walking with Joseph Campbell, down the city street, he said something to me, which now in the foggy remains of memory is only muddled with incoherence (because it wasn’t important). We continued walking, saying nothing. Building construction clangs and the workers clamor. I thought (in my dream) here I…
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Forgetting Shapes
i’ve forgotten the shapes of countries, i can’t recognize the globe; replacing their memory with the feel of wind in my face. —and the ‘gulls no doubt sing atop the marbled ruin of Her return.
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Soon
As soon as I try to infuse a line With meter and rhyme, I’ve murdered it.As soon as I try to gain Through knowledge what I already Instinctively know,I’ve lost it.Soon I’ll give up everythingFor this poetry, It’ll drive me to ruin And I would gladly accept itWith my hand out, waitingFor the next line.
Daniel J Flosi is Consumed 