She made tyranny look like
bouzouki noise blown apart –
her own cascading phrases inferred.
Ritual draws an independent breath at a time.
Two shades; line scripted;
silk threads cut clean her shown moiré.
Do we ever remember to begin anywhere?
The stranger we are,
the more forgotten we become.
Who tells the tyrant that
majesty is not her throne?
She makes music sound like dancing.
Birth became her father once removed -
every stone-cast maze
calling evidential disconnection “life.”
Straight talk balances beams
on a savory walk home disciple at hand,
where she never sits alone…
…for long.
EZB ~ © Nublin’s Pub, 2009
Author notes
Back filled, penciled in, left out and hung over - only Tyranny knows...
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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Long live the arbitrary unrestrained exercise of power. Despotic abuse of complacent authority.The roses roots are fragile but still they hog the goddamned garden, uplifting the huge tulip bulbs that promise to bloom every year. Tulips are liars.
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Threelips are divine...
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Chain of endless links that seems to hang on line 8. Me, I'm sick of beginnings. Endings, too. Such comfort just hanging out in the middle.
Really enjoying your stuff.
Tom
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yea yea...and i still don't get it. Gee whiz, Dinger, I'm on painkillers...can you please write something that will sink in?
I love you.
L
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if you're on pk's this should all make sense. i'll write something that might sink in when you start paying attention to what's being said... love right back.
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When I see you have posted, I know I won't be disappointed. This is no exception... I love your grip on the English language, I'm with mary, and joining jan for the road trip. lol.
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hop on lunarlunacy's bus - he's headin' to the Pub one of these fine days - it'll make the 4th best party at Nublin's Compound in a year...
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i always love your word twists -- the way they
play across a page without
a look at me , look at me yell.. they just
balance inside a beam of light
perfectly chosen --- wonderfully suited.. excellent
m
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pretzel logic - goes great with beer...
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One day I hope to visit Nublin's Pub.
Maybe I have. In some way.
Ramble ramble
mumble
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This is an impressive penning, considering your author's notes, Balldinger. 
Tyrants rarely believe they are imposing their will upon others, though. They merely think they're right, and everyone else should follow along, unquestioning their declarations. Having had such in my former life, I am glad to be free from their caustic yokes. Good one, Ed.
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