Vitriol

I am thistle and kernel –
Mandala in blue kosmogonia,
Virus of a truth
So stark
So beautiful,
Flooding through the eye of light,
Purifying,

Synaptic phantasmagoria
Inside Us – The Beholders
Of space-time’s
Impossible intricacy
And the accidental glory
Of life.

How weak such endings,
Short of magnificence,
Yet our gods seem to do this,
Leaving us far short of perfection,
Not least against
The inexhaustible
And the limits of expression.

Vitriol of blue mandala,
All I have.

Copyright Kosmogonic 2018

2 thoughts on “Vitriol

  1. Nice-is try but ‘accidental glory’ ‘imperfection’ – the poem is in lament ‘poor me’ mode. Infuse a bit of George Herbert or John Donnie in to it. We are not the only poets & thinkers & haven’t sprung from nowhere. Less self-indulgence can open our eyes as to how perfect imperfection is and teach to strive. 😉

    Like

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