Horizon
HORIZON
From the mountains,
At eye level
The sun’s thumb,
With much spit and sweat,
Had burnished back
The sky turquoise of the sea
To pale gold .
At eye level
The sun’s thumb,
With much spit and sweat,
Had burnished back
The sky turquoise of the sea
To pale gold .
Maleny 1996
Brian E Deagon
Brian E Deagon
Author:
Brian Deagon
— 2011-10-23
Fire
FIRE
Is it the flame or the shadow that dances?
Sense proclaims one cause, the other, effect.
Flame follows as shades ride chances.
Lights leap in silhouettes neglect.
Sense proclaims one cause, the other, effect.
Flame follows as shades ride chances.
Lights leap in silhouettes neglect.
Staring stonily into black satin dark
The embers steal my attention.
Should I be drawn to flame and to spark
Peripheral night’s the contention.
The embers steal my attention.
Should I be drawn to flame and to spark
Peripheral night’s the contention.
I am neither light nor shadow.
I am neither dream nor illusion
I am the witness
I am
The Dancer.
I am neither dream nor illusion
I am the witness
I am
The Dancer.
1999-2010
Brian E Deagon
Brian E Deagon
Author:
Brian Deagon
— 2011-10-23
Hospital Bed
HOSPITAL BED
I have fallen in love
With her laughter.
Yet I am empty,
For the laugh
Has no face.
Brisbane 2010.
Brian E Deagon
Author:
Brian Deagon
— 2011-10-23
With Reference
WITH REFERENCE .
Moat monsters and glittering prizes,Spiders castling along a battlement spineHeralds fanfare for a false dawn.A goldrush for cover,Hoardes rattle in cellars.
The power of the hexagram,Silence is consent.Fed, and armed up to the teeth,An ill wind stirs daybreak.They assemble in rows like waves of darkness.
A golden fleecing for all Jasons.Archeology among many manuscripts.An old war horse smells blood in the stable.
The quest ...
Author:
Brian Deagon
— 2011-10-23
Sonnet for Willow
SONNET FOR WILLOW
Words weary and flaccid forms, forced in metreFolding themselves upon themselves and timeFollowing foot by foot much fleeter feet,Seeking tired rhyme to find my loves sweet child.A grinding of knees slows my Autumn yearsWhere once, oiled by sweat, Springs neat ankles danced.A mind abraded, dusts my Winter fears:Breathless and deaf where once your Summers sang.Without leg’s dance, ears to hear, lungs to sing,Despit...
Author:
Brian Deagon
— 2011-10-23