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Poetry Magnum Opus

Heading Night


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Heading Night


We two strangers talk

across the aisle heading north

The Sun has moved to Twilight

A Calvary Cross appears


on a green Marin hill

where a human trail

meets a vertical gully

the bracken subterranean

threshold making wild steps


Our conversation leaps awkwardly

between Saturnian gravity

or the impossibility

of suspended

ethereal rings


I wonder if he is satisfied with transgressions

of orbit or bound to the Pit willing to watch

constellations whirl past- fragments of speech

lucid and sensible but unreproducible by Pythagorean

logistics a Zodiacal parade of street signs and advertising

poor substitutes for interstellar gods signaling from subzero

the form and content of our fate- but we nod and agree

knowing our hellos and goodbyes are the same subclass

of thing as that hillside crossroad between the humans

and their stories while implacable nature just creates

a necessary shortcut between deluge and foundation


and through that passage as I head further

transferring to the night set

a rural bus same shape

same design more

carriage than jet


Reading of synchronicity

while a woman whom despite education

suburbanization and gentrification

grew up too near a Dead Well

or a Bad Tree or some other Axis

of hidden History

crushed and rolled over

still able to push through concrete

sprout in-side


what doctors can look at

becoming a Witch or Simpleton

or Great Mother and Shaker

seeing the world As it Is

Moonlight rejections while False Idols

proudly display themselves in Full Daylight


I follow my nose to get home she says

like a cat And she laughs asking if I've ever seen

River Otters Yes

Now have I seen Moles

Where I grew up

In upstate New York she states

Flying from her seat and off

among loose bags and limbs


Back to the Text

Where Matter is just another dimension

for Thought while Tunneling through the Dark

discharging more discrete manifestations

of Sensing and Feeling blindly groping

through the winding Stars for our way Home.

Edited by dr_con
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I like how this one stays poignantly focused on an almost time-capsule moment. The jet trip, from its precise course of south to north, to the pairing of the passengers, to the conversations, and even to the way the stars and planets are aligned will never be exactly repeated. One can make other journeys, but never the exact same journey. The "Calvary Cross" "on a green Marin Hill" makes me think of that CHRIST THE REDEEMER statue in Brazil. I love the title and the poem.



Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Hi dr_con,


I feel the beginning is a beautiful description of the nature which I don't recall I've read many in your poems, I really like it. It's reminiscent of my long trips in car, train, plane while watching the scenery passing by outside.


S4 is very dense, it's the climax of the conversation both visually and meaningfully. The conversation with the woman in the later part creates a casual atmosphere, very believable. The end brings us back to the Text, the musing, the realization, the epiphany, the peak, you name it.


Engaging read. Many thanks.



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