
x
Each of us pursues a path, each ant has its very own
Destination. However, in my opinion, poetry’s been ruined by
An excess of thought: thought that sneers at action and
Reduces observation to a metaphor crawling across the page
And possibly down to its foot, but getting little further.
Heaps and heaps of poets today busily manufacture
Quasi-profound little homilies for competition prizes
x
In languid lyrics which comply with designated sizes.
So how should one deal with a vista? Not just one in fact
But a myriad views which extend even beyond the ability
To describe them. Helicopter squares below, and then
The geometry of stadia, playing fields, and over there
The stencilled letter of a port with its quays. Or flats
Looking flat, laid out in so many stacked-up Leggo blocks,
x
Then the long strip of a runway. A bridge like a necklace
Strung across the strait. The city seen as a map, buttressed by
Crags, connected by tunnels, flowing along the protracted
Curves of the sea. A glittering flood of humanity! Lapping at
The feet of hills, it rises ever higher, seeking to reach the Redeemer
Whose outstretched arms protect more distant aerials,
While Magnificent Frigatebirds float higher still and share the view
x
Our vantage point provides for us. Here the air’s as pure
As that of Delphi. Even if this particular high place
Hardly suggests you’ll come down with a tablet or two.
Maybe a plaited straw hat, or you can dine beneath a parasol
As the city turns to diamonds way below your prosecco
And all you need’s a white suit and a pot pourri of sambas
To entice her back to your fancy pad, there to slip like a snake
x
Out of the skin of her gown. But you can leave all that till you
Get down. Evening has not fallen yet, although a reddened moon
Is now afloat close to an island breaching the horizon.
It’s amazing really. My grandmother was born in 1870.
My grandchildren might live to see the start of the 22nd century.
And here I can look out across the background of Brazil:
Hill beyond hill beyond hill beyond hill beyond hill…
x
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From The Runiad, Book 22
Thank you Anthony. What a great start to the day, reading this!
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I agree, lovely start to my day, Anthony.
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