Costa Rican Sweep

by Drew Gold   Jan 27, 2008


I. Onyx

I want mistakes
to break down my might,
make a new forking path
disconnect the dots and seal
the star; stay awake enough
to feel the branches touch the feet,
longing for that brush
of paint up against my dream-
ers of of blinking buildings and stoplights
circles. The soil composing symphonies
with light, air grows thick with sap
from debasement of wintry tipped
trees; accidents happen like music in air
where syrup boils down in the window until the beat booming
drums
take the sorry wishes and ladders to the stars and to
the sun throwing off skin, deconstellating domes without shapes and
without desire breaking open, while eternity rises, climbing through.

I. Mercury

without desire breaking open, while eternity rises, climbing through.
I want mistakes
the sun throwing off skin, deconstellating domes without shapes and
to break down my might,
take the sorry wishes and ladders to the stars and to
disconnect the dots and seal
where syrup boils down in the window until the beat booming
drums
the star; stay awake enough
trees; accidents happen like music in air
to feel the branches touch the feet,
from debasement of wintry tipped
longing for that brush
with light, air grows thick with sap
circles. The soil composing symphonies
of paint up against my dream-
ers of blinking buildings and stoplights.

II. Manila

invisible heart
beats under clothes; soft wind
pumping through striped veins of ribboned
air, cutting along the curves spending
color weaving helixes that wind and whip
from the tips of every little living thing.
ships of these sailing through time
waving nature walking in the heat,
orange pads on a frogs feet creeping
into toes like crawling up the belly of
a shore's sand, into the watery blue
ocean through the green paintings
glistening the back of the wet
forest in this living skin, slipping
rainbow red circular eyes that change
colors each blink, vertical slits of
film rolling them over as an ocean cuddles
into the leap. he hits the leaf, clinging,
a warm silvery puddle of rocking green
invisible sleep.

II. Cyan

invisible sleep.
beats under clothes; soft wind
a warm silvery puddle of rocking green
pumping through striped veins of ribboned
air, cutting along the curves spending
color weaving helixes that wind and whip
into the leap. he hits the leaf, clinging,
from the tips of every little living thing.
film rolling them over as an ocean cuddles
ships of these sailing through time
colors each blink, vertical slits of
waving nature walking in the heat,
rainbow red circular eyes that change
orange pads on a frogs feet creeping
forest in this living skin, slipping
into toes like crawling up the belly of
an ocean through green paintings
glistening the back of the wet
sandy shores, into the watery blue
invisible heart.

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Latest Comments

  • 9 years ago

    by NyellMoonlight

    Wow...
    I am speechless, truly impressed.

    Amazing write, I can't express how much I like it. The imagery that you portrayed is so beautiful, creative and vivid. Whole poem is excellently written, different from anything I've read before. Remarkable, detailed piece, with every line flawlessly highlighted with superb descriptions. Your wording is excellent, too, and the whole atmosphere of this piece is simply overwhelming.
    This is true poetic gemstone, a poem filled with such astounding uniqueness.
    Keep writing and I'll keep reading your fantastic work~