The city dies faster ,long after the cats
have left their unchanging landscapes .
what time is it in your reverie ?
The lethal insomniac who still lurks
after midnight has neither a tomorrow
nor a present moment ...
wizzard of chaos who draws up the plans
for the day after ...
The craftsman mixed the mortar of generation
to bind the concrete of eternity .
Fragil spirale of cathedrals...
Archives of quicklime ,you bear in searing letters
the name of those masters of the earth ,
which is about to open up for one last sulfuric kiss ...
On either side of the strait -Reggio and Messina -
They looked at each other without seeing one another...
No bridge connects them .
Perhaps just a shared faith in the face of disaster ...
It's 3 o'clock .The bodies turn away ,
fleeing the other's scent .
denying the oath .
The marital seismograph never lies .
The clock's hand freeze at the hour forever .
The sea recedes into the distance ,
lover revealing her poisonous charms .
come and satisfy me .
The daring one set out to steal the treasures offered.
The rock has betrayed .
Only the mud remains faithful .
Messina begs Neptune for forgiveness !
If you walk on water ,you don't need a bridge
to reach the promised land !
'' Do you know that the angry wave will return
accompanied by the curse child whom no one
recognizes as their own flesh ? ''
You'll bless those rotten fish rests .
On my computer I draw a breaking line
that always stops where the end decides...
The bipolar seismograph ticking away
commands time to fall silent ...
if you're still alive after midnight ,
Listen to the tectonic voice .
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 29th, 2026 11:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson), Sealgair, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments5
Earthquakes tectonic shifts, this poem rocks in its slide. Well done Lorenz
A reflection on these geological fractures that live within us .
Never fractured a bone but fractured lots of other things
definite fav friend
Not too definitive I hope !
much enjoyed my friend, is anything too definitive, even death ?
We are made of the same processes as the Earth itself. Tectonic plates move within us too. They shift slowly over the years until, one day, they transform our entire inner landscape. Great poem!
Nature has a morality that reason is unaware of !
Perhaps tectonic plates are nothing more than the Earth's subconscious trying to turn over in its sleep.
these tectonic plates cease to be subjects of scientific studies and become metaphors for the human conditions teetering on its own fault lines !
Lorenz, this is one hell of a poem. I am fascinated by how private estrangement, historical catastrophe, and spiritual reckoning become inseparable here. Everything humanity trusts for stability proves temporary...leaving us exposed before forces far greater than ourselves. Dark, disorienting, and extraordinary work, my friend! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
That poetic landscape that blossoms along the faults...
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