Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Bones and Books


On each of your bones is a luminous script.
In the curve of each letter—
in the remotest part of each letter—
lie small cities which never see sun
but rely instead on light gathered from
a vast underground river: the inner life.
Within these cities
philosophers and poets are held in high esteem. 
Here books are made from the white ground underfoot
and the daily diet is rich in verse and literature—
thoughts artfully cooked into casseroles and stews—
—creation seasoned with a dash of whimsy.

---------------------------------(rhonda)

10 comments:

  1. This one is, of course, for SK Dapoz.

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  2. Sandie is an artist in Indiana who LOVES poems about bones. I'm hoping she'll see this one and get a giggle.

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  3. Fantastic!!! I like this so much. I hope my cities are this rich. Awesome job with the prompt!

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  4. Ahhhh! I have always loved illuminated manuscripts, and the idea of being a monk creating them - though the only time I ever tried, I sorely lacked the patience.

    What a beautiful conceit this poem is; what beautiful conceits it is full of. Can I have your imagination when you've finished with it?

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  5. Thank you for joining Poets United. I have added your blog to our blogroll so others can discover you and your wonderful poetry. Poets United is what you make of it so explore, comment often and it will lead to folks doing so in return. We look forward to visiting your blog and reading your poetry.

    Ink runs from the corners of my mouth
    There is no happiness like mine.
    I have been eating poetry.
    ~Mark Strand

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  6. What a pleasure to read! You deftly weave unlikely threads into a meaningful and complex poem. Terrific!

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