Apricocks... Be kind and courteous to this gentleman; Hop in his walks and gambol in his eyes; Feed him with apricocks and dewberries, With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries; The honey-bags steal from the humble-bees, And for night-tapers crop their waxen thighs And light them at the fiery glow-worm's eyes, To have my love to bed and to arise; -Shakespeare: Midsummer Night's Dream
Monday, May 20, 2019
Breath interrupted
How simple is a breath
unless there is impediment
the rhythm of breathing goes
unnoticed most of our days
we may notice a fragrance
breathing it in with delight
or something foul or toxic
making us desire fresh air
What happens when deprivation
of breath turns the simple to complex
fluid in the lungs keeps the heart
from the air it craves when no more
can the air come in with ease
when consumed by consumption
we are desperate for the remedy
poets past never had
our good doctors give us expectorants
antibiotics antihistamines and inhalers
from which the puffs of air provide
expansion of the vessels of the lungs
pills and tonics open the way to air
why even the mind expands
open to music and poetry in an epiphany
Keats alive again pure and serene
Beethoven's sonatas are the embodiment of God
yet even in this temple of delight
veiled melancholy has her sovran shrine
beauty offers us no lasting cure
sadness moves through every pained breath
each gasp a cough of revelation
of impermanence as life like breath departs
how simple is a death
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