Somewhere Lions Roam

my response to Rainer Maria Rilke’s Duino Elegies  , below is the fourth of ten poems.

 

The decree so weak,

the care so false,

that glazed windows battered by sand, clatter and shade….

The dark dancing is set to fool and huddled children shake against peeling skin.

Glitter is medicine sold by winking monkeys.

The silver oil is for dreamers sinking in blossoms, eaten by ants

and bathing in fountains flanked by old wizards.

Just keep spinning and avoid the funeral tune, wedging planks to hold your heavy lids against the fluttering.

We exist here in dirty, self-imposed contradiction

whilst somewhere

over prickling grass

she strides

emboldened feet

absorbing truth

IMG_0476

Published by The Silver Poet

I AM a little spark in the sea of conscious awareness. I am passionate about bringing the concept of freedom of expression into the forefront of our one mind and a keen awareness of personal power to the hearts of little children everywhere. I exist to express!

22 thoughts on “Somewhere Lions Roam

  1. I love yr work/here’s something I read–Rilke on questions & answers
    (from somewhere)

    “Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, some day far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”

    Like

  2. “The dark dancing is set to fool and huddled children shake against peeling skin.”
    Aside from the fact that the above reminds me of playing outside from November to April in my neck of the woods (You should see our cheeks!), it’s just…startling. In wonderful ways.

    I adore this series you are putting together here, oh brilliant one.

    Like

    1. well I adore your adoration!. it does sound a bit like chilblains!… I experienced that sort of cold for a little while when we lived in southern tasmania… i remember my toes were sooo cold from the snow and I was so unused to it.
      also in the limestone caves down there… i was a wayward child refused to wear shoes…oh soooo cold. unlike you … heart as warm as toast xxx

      Like

  3. Oddly enough, it’s all limestone here, too. One thing I found as a child is that no matter how hot the summer is, it’s alllllways cold in a limestone cave. 😉

    I’d have played with you…shoes or no.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Silver Poetry

All That Glitters Is Not Gold

Unfettered BS

it is all just bullshit anyway.....

MYMonkey MIND

Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told

Post Scriptum Poets

Haikus Senryus and Tankas about anything and everything

InkBlots and IceBergs

musings on life | bits of psychology | attempts at poetry

This and That

In other countries individuals go to jail and/or die for weblogging. While the bulk of this country makes the internet an extention of T.V.

Blossomine🌼

Scripting the desires that are soul deep

Finely Spun

material

Ingenuity speaks

"where creativity roams free"

Africa Zwelibanzi

The Poetry Monarch.

Jeffrey Pillow

Life, death, and everything in between

Texas Outlaw Poet

JEFF CALLAWAY

Purple Haze

Darkness, delusion, smeared with a stick of butter and laughter. Words collide, they bring forth death!

The Lonely Author

Pain goes in, love comes out.

The Realm

well, come on in. bite. chew. spit.

%d bloggers like this: