Thursday, November 18, 2010


I slept ember far too long;

woke up where I don’t belong.

Gilt and gold are all I find,

some migrant Midas left behind.

I walk tober through the park;

scarlet billows, like a shark

prowls through fog and rips through limbs,

shredding hymnals into hymns.

I know vember very well;

rumors that I can’t dispel.

Cultivating our eclipse,

scent of spirits on her lips.


Terresa said...

"shredding hymnals into hymns" -- I love that imagery, also the wordplay of the title.

I wrote a poem yesterday, (it's crap) and it kept wanting to rhyme. I kept smacking the rhyme out of it, maybe it would've been better to have let the rhyme overtake it, I'm not sure, but I do know that the rhyme in this, Joaquin, works. Well.

There is a playfulness in your approach to words (such as the title, and your words, "tober" and "vember") that grows a poem into something broader, wider, more beautiful.

Karen said...

I, too, love the playfulness of this...slept ember, walk tober, know vember, and all of the accompanying images are fun and whimsical. This is such a delight, I just want to read it again and again.

Anonymous said...

THAT is a very crafty piece. And YOU are a very crafty writer!


K.Lawson Gilbert said...

Every stanza presents a little tease of a story which was, perhaps, the spur for each verse? Sharp images and clever writing has been a hallmark of yours - and this work is no exception, I am freshly captivated by its wit.

"shredding hymnals into hymns."

I am jealous of this line.

Anonymous said...

Such a delightful piece :)

Julie said...

Awesome and intriguing. I especially love that second stanza. As Terresa says, the line "shredding hymnals into hymns" is excellent. Have a beautiful Thanksgiving, Joaquin!