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from The Frome Primer
karly22

Kk
 1
 
 
To stay the writing hand, just now
 2
when it seems whole continents are shifting
 3
off their axes, now the roof tiles on the roof
 4
clatter and won’t sit still. To revive lint
 5
that is torn, earth linenless rooms,
 6
to fix mouths that move
 7
to the same rhythm that our mouths
 8
moved to, to think and describe clearly
 9
sometimes become impossible.
 10
 
 
 
 
Ours wasn’t an age of polished evenings
 11
the sky transparent on the skyline
 12
-there was barely room for
 13
consolation. Each night for a month
 14
a comet blazed across the night sky,
 15
that was ten years ago, a time when
 16
the first war in the gulf could still be exalted
 17
and signs still taken as wonders.
 18
 
 
 
 
So, dear friend, no need to ask if I’m nostalgic
 19
for the old life , nor to speak
 20
of the high velocity of current times.
 21
I was obstinate and believed these times
 22
would pass. I’ll write again one high April
 23
morning, when, under a feral moon
 24
the captured have been lifted, astonished
 25
out of signs and prevailing transparencies
 26
return, the common dream.
 27

this is from a series of twenty six poems. the primer element being like the shepards calander
attempting to represent seasonable shifts  

30 Jun 07


(define the words in this poem)
(1 more poem by this author)



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Comments:

what is this?/
didn't get it
 — unknown

axes? axis
our wasn't an age?

i think you might be trying too hard to sound deep.
 — unknown

axes is the plural of axis. Typo of our (should read ours).
but have corrected.
 — karly22

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