MythBlast | Mythopoetry in April
the blackening of a star
a star buried in Saturn
Here beauty streams
from the eyes of women
noble and green
Drain the swamp and
hole becomes shithole
how low must one go?
Well-being does not exist
at the top where
one might think
Buried deep where a low is lit;
down there a secret fire
(in the hole of workers, high
schooled students, and the mass
generation not inviolate
where enough is enough)
gathers a viable massa confusa
gnawing at its own rootedness
in an ars requirit
Let that sink in a bit. Evil is without
autonomy having served its role in
holeness. Joined is high and low in the head
of state; something more passive in matters
consoled sharpens our discernment for
what is real in what merely simulates shit.
Tears cleanse our words, our cloudy ears
our eyes; our throats
adorned in crystal.
Cultural mythologer, poet-essayist, Stephanie Pope, MA, publishes Mythopoetry Scholar Ezine and Mythopoetry Blog. Her latest poetry volume, Monsters & Bugs, can be found on Amazon.