Richard Blanch

Golden - Poem by Richard Blanch

Gold comes in many forms: all of them hymned
Carolled and forced into lyric shapes
By wordshifters, poets, prosaic apes
Of god, straddling the language, thrusting, rimmed
With pleasures coarse or cultured, all of them
Aglow. Gold light creasing hedges, glittering dawn,
Gold heaped Ali-Baba high, .Midas-touched, corn-
Yellow, Miser’s hoards, setting for a gem.

What a cascade of cash.

Gold-metaphor or real, capitalist
Encoding, should be shunned then, ?

Even gold limbs?
Ah, that cliché I own.
Admit, embrace. That gold is to be kissed
Caressed in slanting evening light, lithe, hot
With dreams and, yes, quotations: Make ‘sweet moan’.

Comments about Golden by Richard Blanch

  • (4/18/2008 9:20:00 PM)

    Attractive metaphor, apt allusions, great imagery of the written word and all powerful literature…
    The way you have presented in your golden lines is appreciable….
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  • (4/18/2008 3:47:00 PM)

    Yes. What an interesting subject to write on. I like it, especially the recycling of John Keats to fit the concept. Gold indeed, though brown is a far better color. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, April 18, 2008

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