Hot honey splatters freckle the page
Tea is warm in the throat and, somewhere,
On the other side of a screen or a door or a mirror
There's a long walk to the edge of eternity
Deeper than the bottom of the mug.
Bees swarm in the desert nearby, all
Typefaces; headlines buzzing in the morning
And the door is open, the honey sweet
All the cruelties boiled to candy
Wrapped in garish hyperlinks.
And someone is inviting sand
Where the honey and the salt and time
Melt into the ocean, a paradise of pallid noise
To dream of savor, trees of honeycombs
And the tea is cooling in the mug.
Normally, there is a note, project plans, something. This week I'm feeling that low ebb of creativity, where your brain tells you that you're running low on some crucial writing vitamin. Linking with The Sunday Muse. Hopefully, this week finds you well and writing!
-- Chrissa
The headlines do seem to be buzzing in the morning. Honey in tea seems to soothe the ache of understanding the virus making its way into the human psych.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful.
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Your poem is far from lacking writing vitamins. It is wonderful! That long walk to the edge of eternity deeper than the bottom of the mug is wonderful. Lovely to read you, Chrissa.
ReplyDeleteOne of your finest Chrissa, and certainly not running low on writing vitamins. Always amazing poetry flows from here my friend!
ReplyDeleteThis poem describes a funhouse mirror where nothing is at it seems at first to be. Nothing is worse than warm sweetness allowed to go tepid.
ReplyDeleteI feel that the world out there is full of decoys and lures... love the references from honey to hashtags.
ReplyDeleteSo then the long walk to the edge will take place in the cold, but we must stand up and take the walk, yes? How can we stay with "All the cruelties boiled to candy
ReplyDeleteWrapped in garish hyperlinks." Hmm? Or maybe neither is preferable, and the philosopher had better stick with the cup of tea, warm or cold. Do we want to reach "a paradise of pallid noise"? Mighty fine delineation of the paradox. (Thank you so much for your insightful comment over at my blog.)
So much in this poem to love. We live in our world where truth is buried and twisted through lies until we can't find it. So love that second stanza.
ReplyDeleteVery telling, Chrissa, “the tea is cooling in the mug.”
ReplyDelete?a long walk to the edge of etermity" and the "tea is cooling in the mug". Great write!
ReplyDelete