On the page the paper breath cracks:
swooping glyphs open their black eyes
and yawn a linear series of numbered sounds.
The grid weaves away
a shaking topography of compressed breath and screaming strings.
Formulas shiver into listening
splitting twilight into sunrise.
Notes both sharp and long
punctuate and scale the blueprints
of a time machine looking to be made through the power of sound.
(a magpie poem)
Exquisite ... a delight to read!
ReplyDeleteAgreed a complete delight to read.
ReplyDeleteIncredible images. "Formulas shiver into listening splitting twilight into sunrise."
ReplyDeleteAs always your images pack quite a punch.
ReplyDeleteI love "and yawn a linear series of numbered sounds" (why can't I yawn like that?).
Blueprints of a time machine. Brilliant!
ReplyDeleteswooping glyphs open their black eyes
ReplyDeleteI loved this image...
"..shaking topography of compressed breath and screaming strings.." Wonderful.
ReplyDeletelove your words...
ReplyDeletewell done tale.
A time machine - love this image!
ReplyDeleteOh wowww!! What a fantastic image you have created with your words here...really lovely!!
ReplyDeleteA delightful and superbly musical take on the Mag!! Really enjoyed this one, my friend..