the sentient verse

by

Crystal Dawn Allen

This is the tale of the sentient verse
that came as a blessing
or maybe, a curse
True poetry is such that it cannot be said
and this is the curse of the verse in my head.

The scripture of earth lays unrolled and alive
and I dance all over it. I only survive
because I make love all over it. I always remember
the ecstasy of the spirit,
the intensity of surrender.

We throw ourselves to the sky,
we who have wings!
We know the joy of a body that sings!
The whole world is singing;
come open your eyes
and your ears to the verse
in its sentient disguise.

Go now, and touch it:
it cannot be read.
Go now, and taste it:
it cannot be said.
Go now, and feel it;
or else instead
feel the curse of the verse inside your head.

Fall to your knees
between poetry and rhyme.
Creator, Destroyer, sweet Lover of Time,
I no longer believe in
the monsters you've bred.
I feel the curse of the verse in my head.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at On Longfellow's Village Blacksmith
by: Francis Duggan
from: Wonthaggi, Victoria, Australia

To visit all of Crystal Dawn Allen's poems, click HERE

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