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Poetry Magnum Opus



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Christmas eve the night carer is asleep, my limbs are

fixed like a sidewinder stunned by a sandstorm.

Outside a bird shakes a worm. A seizure,

my dance of remembrance, forgive me-the form

is rough, I would like to offer moves with

elegance, smoother incantations for the

one who was crucified. Does it not thrive,

is it possible to detect perceptibly

cadences more perfect within the season

of seizures?. A will that is pure pervades

the manoeuvers of war, one mans passion,

a shadow dance serves to advance, parade

correct moves. My condition costumes the

concious mind and Christ costumes humanity.

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David W. Parsley

Hi Barry,


Just wanted to express appreciation for the theme and treatment. Intriguing final line. I will come back with more later.


- David

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  • 2 weeks later...

Dense, but interesting. As David seems to imply, it needs several readings.

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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