Diana Thoresen Poems

'...in spring, the most delicate feathery yellow of plumes and plumes and plumes and trees and bushes of wattle, as if angels had flown right down out of the softest gold regions of heaven to settle here, in the Australian bush.'
— D. H. Lawrence, Kangaroo

Paraboloid totems of evergreen hope, upside down
...

Sri Mahalakshmi herself
Couldn't have granted me
A sweeter boon than a smorgasbord
...

Star of the Sea, dolorous and Byzantine,
throw your royal blue cloak over me,

She who weeps, La Llorona in Kahlo's Casa Azul, paint my heart
...

A radial photon machine

Exploding with the light of a thousand suns
Beyond our sun, a solitary star
...

The palms suppliced
In sunny radiance
Must mock
My cryptocrystalline cloister
...

Scathing like a jeremiad
By Péladan
The red moon laughed at the sea
And the fox-ness of the fox
...

Tall men with machine guns chloroform all thoughts of terror under the luminous tarmac lights
A thirty-hour flight turns one into a numb Cambodian carving
After the curious condiments in business class victuals and
bright cheery pandas past border patrol in Melbourne
...

My solitary Friday nights are something timeless as I slowly tread
A lynx path past the kind oaks in the Winter Palace courtyard
Images long scattered to the winds burn through me
...

Love me, love me, I am scared

Turn all warm birds black
And paint all pearly moons red
...

A periwinkle love root talisman is bristling with
Red pepper battle orisons, black pepper war songs
Asherah's wormwood words and valerian sorceries
Rise with Sirius and its blinding vervain rays
...