Orphic Egg Poem by Leon Moon

the yolk is space

irony
concatenates
reality

synthesising duality
reflections of our face

the womb which creates

seasons
music
war

after-taste of triumphs, victory
ever-present in all that we chase

I

the sky is a shell our mind's infiltration repels.
uncoil the serpent, seize the throne again.
accustom yourself to the plain.

—

illuminations
of a solitary reaper
with no room for form
deaths and entrances
ageless wilderness
the two kings
in exile


I

the joke is space

energy
immune to waste
salvatore

intimations of fate
stillness unearthed but not replaced

the tomb which creates

sanctity
elegies
refund

the end of time's sermon, the sanctuary
where gods are judged, released from their name

I

craft vacuums to excavate the pain
illusions ingrained as they plundered you.
reconfigure the second-hand sun binding your feet to the land.

—

idiom of the hero
enemy of the stars
genius in the crowd
boundless moment
ancient music
the dead pan
ecstasy

I