Saturday 9 September 2017

Sun Dance.

If only I could 
throw words 
onto the page
like Jackson Pollock 
threw paint onto the canvas,
a kind of divine anarchy,
beautiful chaos
celebrating nothing 
but itself,
iridescent,
dripping molten stalactites
in flouro red, orange and green
descending
over the primordial world
aeons before 
the red blaze cooled
and life emerged,
slowly,
laboriously,
from the cobalt blue.

Published at One Sentence poems

4 comments:

  1. Gee, Neil, this is really good. You have truly painted with words, capturing both the vibrant anarchy of Pollock's work and the vivid colours of the world around us. A poem about poiesis. Sorry I haven't commented on my poems for a while, I am rarely on Facebook and do not see your flags.

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