by Jonathan O’Farrell
How can I describe this left hemispheric madness?
Well try this,
first came delicate filigree amoeba,
followed by blue green algae?
But less blue, more green
with a hint of burnt umber?
It remained so for sometime.
I hoped to bode it farewell.
I bade my time, waited.
As per usual you wake up one morning and it’s,
it’s gone! Oh, what was that?
But no, it came at me again,
bloodged, bludgeoned itself into my conciousness;
thicker, inkier and then locusts
as if from afar,
covering from horizon to horizon,
up and down,
above and below.
Locusts, swarms of them
doing what swallows do,
only not so prettily.
They stir up in their wake indeterminate fog
and it banks and it swirls
and it impinges.
And so I rest upon my one, good, in inverted commas,
right eye and it works harder
and I work harder,
maintaining slices of routine.
amidst all those banks of fog.
Morningtide, I pray, eveningtide, I pray.
I think for now, that’s all I can do
and hope, the good hope.
“I guess you might describe me as a semi-nomad, at the moment . . . and in the moment, I might change. I am transitioning into a creative life, blogging, photography and, significantly, the publication of my first two photographically illustrated poetry anthologies, this year.”
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