Lucidity

I tire of the poetic infatuation

With candlelight

The laureates penning elegies

To the “evocative beauty”

Of these minor chords in waxen form

The flattery of provisional antimatter

Asking me to bask

In their bare minimum lambency

In the pretension inherent

Their flaxen glow

Inducing of nausea and vertigo

The ire of that subtle illumination

Undulating with the weak promises

Of antecedent romance

The victorian fibs

The hollow innuendos

I desire flight from these offensive flames

Oh Apollo

Grant me wings that I might ascend

Lend me a love resemblant of the sun

That I might rise above the quivering mire

Making a mockery of my feral lucidity

I long for electricity

I want to weep with wattage

Bring me the tortures of Tesla

The phosphorescence of Edison

Blind me that I might achieve

The clarity of Helen Keller

I crave a third degree

Inside of me

Send me to my grave aflame

With the same deliverance

As Icarus

a. duncan, 2020

 

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Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus || Love is rich with both honey and venom

12 thoughts on “Lucidity

  1. Why bathe in weak and inferior light when you can revel in the electrically charged touch of April’s words? Why worship the lukewarm and unoriginal when there is such clarity and wattage available to you. Another work of art April, with so many lines that make me sigh with the cleverness of them.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ah, Rachel! Thank you, thank you, thank you for always having such precise cognizance of my moods/thoughts/metaphors. And for your wildly flattering responses. You seem to read between my lines with such effortlessness and it’s the most intoxicating sensation when I log in to find your gorgeous words and reactions. I wrap myself in them like a fleece on a rainy day. I breathe them like the steam wafting from an early morning cup of coffee. Being truly heard by someone – who’s own poetry constantly inspires and humbles me – feels like you’re stealing my breath away in one fell swoop! Who need oxygen when there is a Rachel giving me life. 🎠

      It’s become such a cliche – hasn’t it darling? The placid redundancy of the ‘roses and candlelight’ metaphor. It’s not that candles/lanterns don’t emit a beautiful glow. They do! But it seems like writers (and members of the arts in general) have assigned such undue importance on the subtlety of that light source. You and I are both moths drawn to larger flames. Twin flames. 🔥 xoxo

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I don’t think it would be possible to have a more beautifully written or poetic response. Just more evidence that there is no-one who can so effortlessly articulate an experience or feeling like you. “I wrap myself in them like a fleece on a rainy day. I breathe them like the steam wafting from an early morning cup of coffee.” How do you so readily come up with these things? I will give you as much oxygen as you need. I never want your flame to run out.
        xoxo

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Wow. I am so happy to finally find you in WP reader. I first heard about you via Rachel’s blog, and was not able to find you in Reader view though (which means I can’t like or comment – browser glitch issues), then I believe you followed my blog which gave me the link to yours, but then your blog was private. Anyway… enough about all that… this poem is just… electrifying. Weeping with wattage over here… thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh my god! This comment was so unexpected and has me absolutely giddy. Thank you for these kind words – how very flattering! I couldn’t be happier that you found me, either! Rachel is a dear friend and any friend of hers is a friend of mine. I apologize for my spell on private – I’m back and you are very, very welcome here. Looking forward to immersing myself in your work as well. Xo. ♥️⚡️🦊

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Awww, thank you, so very much, for this lovely warm reply!! Means a lot. I totally understand about the private thing – I do that from time to time. Sometimes I just need a break. :)) xoxoxo ❤︎ 🔆🌻💛

        Liked by 1 person

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