and still to persevere,
lost inside a toll
of serial confederates,
recursive fantasies
of dead-dealt chance;
exotic kingdoms of tarot
children, creeping timid
into circled firelight,
to persevere against the
gleam of terror
leaping from shadows
where the mother,
our wintermost crone,
boils miasmic jelly from
some dreadful fruit,
against the stir,
against the infinite,
against the gleam,
suborned.
Comments
RachelPatricia | June 25, 2012 - 19:57
Your poetry is so inspiring, jennifer. I've read everything of yours so far and I'm a little addicted to tell the truth - there are images both here in this poem and in your others which are simply captivating, though I must admit, some of it does go completely over my head! But that says more about me than it does you ;)
Nonetheless, I'm becoming a BIG fan of your stuff. Looking forward to more - this and your equally wonderful poem Teacups, are my favourites so far :)
RachelPatricia | June 25, 2012 - 19:58
'Teacup', rather - sorry about that! :)
Parson Thru | June 25, 2012 - 20:06
Lovely, Jennifer. What an atmosphere you create.
jennifercrane | June 25, 2012 - 20:33
thank you most kindly for reading, Parson Thru :)
jennifercrane | June 25, 2012 - 20:34
RachelPatricia -- thank you for reading and for such an encouraging message! so pleased my work connected with you.
Dan Ryder | June 26, 2012 - 00:32
Lovely stuff, very enigmatic and rich.
Dan.
jennifercrane | June 26, 2012 - 00:38
Thank you very much, Dan.
Jen
imranmohdusman | June 26, 2012 - 08:20
simple and sweet !
jennifercrane | June 26, 2012 - 14:31
thank you!