Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Peter Bracking- Three Poems

so much chalk dust

the forty some floor lake topped chalet points to the peak
of the rising air
billowing misting
a thin strip slate grey to shimmering white heights
interrupting the blue
invaded by the golden top
and the wind mischievous
is a hand
in places
moulding and forcing troughs carving water
in others
waving off the edges
so much chalk dust


not of
sharp sticky smells itching
crawling metaphors for motives but the ragged edges of
words imagine

you ride in on

an entire cast in a poem that
can't capture an idea
every touch on reality
pulls the fabric, idea, up and into the pencil
the graphite and all sundry
pull back into a place that never could have existed

no time
add eyes
flavoured grumble gravy
and shake and shake and shake
the torpid imagination expands
the sum of nothing

the world

to have the dream
held so close to your face
that it is impossible
to see its edges
however distantly indistinctly shaped
so close the dream
licks your face your groin
your heart that pumps swells and engulfs your body
with delighted shivers that affect
the very air around you

how cruel the world
to snatch away the dangled desire
in the contrived miasma subscribed by some law point 2 subsection B17

Peter Bracking tells tall tales.  Earth point:  Vancouver, Canada.

Words have been published by more than a dozen presses in four countries on two continents including: Maisonneuve; Black Heart Magazine; streetcake magazine; Thrice Fiction; Lantern Magazine ; ygdrasil poetry journal; Existere.

The only occupation he regrets leaving is beach bum.  Peter is the artistic director of Utter Stories.

Self aggrandizement:  http://utterstories.wordpress.com

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