November 16, 2017

Poetry: “Viewfinder”

Molten wax dribbles calligraphy
Onto the Augustine tablecloth
You laid
To catch the spillage
Of a punctured quill
Held by shifting redundancy.

Opalescent rock walls,
Redistributed to
Scaled-down proportions,
Simmer on low,
Bubble over braised
Mini-models of panoramic captures —
Freeze-frame fetishes
Vetted between coffee beans —
Gritty grounds guillotined.

Fraying fanfare
Trumpets transition:
Transmogrified telescopes
Splice aural viewfinders
Through sheer reels
Of found footage,
Coy cousins of calamity.

*Camera clicks*

Here, divinity.

*Lights flash*

There, eternity.

Seagulls flock, but
Perish the thought of
Spread-leg leisure
To pass the arch of time!

Head in hand,
Shirt balled in fist,
Bite your knuckles
To prevent screams from bleeding.

The money shot comes
At a price beyond the cost…

Stay the order,


Oceans could part.


© Jane Bled 2016-2017
All Rights Reserved.

Money Tree © Jane Bled


About Jane Bled

Human. Happy in my solitude. Free of expectations. Awakening. Light side: love, peace, art. Dark side: ****** I despise the word 'follower'. It calls to mind lemmings, sheep, cults, etc. Here to exhibit my art -- not aiming to gain a flock of seagulls that mournfully cry out my name as they fail to reach me.


All Things Jane Bled, Free, Poetry, Writing


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