Some Mute Beast

My response to Rilke’s Duino Elegies number 8

Reaching again, stalking this thirst

for who I am, we are

splitting in parts,

raw light leaking

but blind and believing in





public slaying

guarded by pulsing spectre

keen eye follows


by bee or ant

marching chaotic to unseen nothing

but not because it isn’t there

to nowhere

but not because it isn’t there

only hidden in syrup and crusty flesh

…. nectar lies puddled on the shore, caged in hopeless thought

but the tapping and seeking

silently thrusting


tumbling beasts

spiralling downward

wooly rainbows

skein unwinding

through wells of damp





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!

12 thoughts on “Some Mute Beast

      1. I wish, Poet… I’ve not posted fiction in a long time, self-imposed moratorium… but I feel like breaking it. I love the music that words can bring, especially yours. There are very very few people out there who move me the way you do.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. its a strange love story, held by hieroglyphs and other eccentric shapes crawling in formation, making magic where there was previously just energy… oh you know I think it is a MARVEL , the way energy forms thought forms pictures forms words transmutes into planets of wild action, imagination is as real as anything… spectacular!

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Strange, back-breaking, essential love story of the masses, talking to our need for storytelling and feeling our humanity… and we wonder why some people are compelled to write. The reasons are myriad. Or maybe there’s only one. Doesn’t matter, as long as there’s words to be strung. I never understood this compulsion or why I didn’t choose to draw or paint (I don’t have your talent) or make music… but they didn’t beckon. Strange love story indeed. The strangest.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. i dont think i ever had a particular talent for art or writing as I grew up but i did have a strange hunger and the more creative i was the more satisfied i felt, art and writing were just prevalent in my environment. , i think the talent is in the intentional touch, the deliberate conscious action…everything else is just skill learned over time. I think the more conscious I became of my need to turn myself inside out and the more deliberate I became in my effort to do so the better the art and writing seems maybe … hmmm I do talk in metaphors. I watched a show on Asian art last night and it has opened a portal of understanding in me. They spoke of ‘right action’ (not a moral thing i dont think 🙂 meaning that the whole body and mind is connected and delivered into the artwork…oh it makes my throat full…see the need to open the throat hahah it is probably what some people call inspiration!
        i could have been a surgeon


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