No nudge,
however fitted to the contours of the shoulder
by impassioned ergonomics,
- pyrotic and smoldering, engineered for self-ignition
a petition that will blaze until the words melt off -
will reanimate you, draw the faintest recognition,
or smoke out a cough.
What to do when all contrivance fails?
The laboratory rat forgets his training
and goes careening into the walls of the maze,
the ungainly tail whipping behind.
Let’s not try to move us forward
if our heads are lacking some essential part.
Maybe if we wait, with our eyes suggestive,
wisdom will come to us like a butler,
sensing out of duty my glass must be refilled,
and give me the word that I can build upon,
and the proper cutlery.
Speaking of the word 'intelligent, ' that's what this poem is. Very smart, Ian. Well constructed too. No cliches or over-used images. A nice controlled burn. Excellent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I don'tknow if I can add to what Hound has said. This is excellent fantastic visuals. Well done for not putting a whole load of your work on the site in one go. This is the way to attract attention to one's work. Respect Denis Joe