{"id":12706,"date":"2021-11-10T11:07:56","date_gmt":"2021-11-10T11:07:56","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/cassandravoices.com\/?p=12706"},"modified":"2021-11-10T11:07:56","modified_gmt":"2021-11-10T11:07:56","slug":"poetry-peter-oneill","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/2021\/11\/10\/poetry-peter-oneill\/","title":{"rendered":"Poetry: Peter O’Neill"},"content":{"rendered":"

Spring
\n<\/strong>For
\n<\/em><\/span>Lois P. Jones<\/span> <\/em>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

I<\/strong><\/p>\n

The gentle discord of rainfall,
\nits alternating static dance are
\nReeds of air in suspension
\nbefore the corona of sensation.
\nA droplet splashes and trickles
\nalong your neck,
\nits joyous grief
\nis welcomed by you with a shudder.
\nThe courage of the leaf
\npasses beneath the banks of cloud,
\nthe burnishing lustre blossoming
\nupon your limbs,
\nthe flowering sounds
\nof the sun\u2019s brassy trumpets
\nilluminate the oracle of the hills.<\/p>\n

II<\/strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

The space between the words
\nIs akin to the space between the rain;
\nThis is syntax \u2013
\nThe syntax of the rain.
\nEach word, each drop,
\nWith its cohesion of letters
\nIs an alphabet written in water
\nPooling in language.
\nThe liquidity of words.
\n<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>Your waters fall like rain,
\nTheir quiet sudden declensions thunder
\nWith an astonishment of showers
\nLight and gentle as thought\u2019s forgotten tributaries
\nBrining relief from the tropics,
\nThe tropics of the spring.<\/p>\n

III<\/strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

The distillation of the night
\nferments the dawn,
\nminute revolutions of uninterrupted
\nsleep; night being a dark day
\nfor things that silently creep.
\nOut of such stuff things bloom!
\nThe leaf of thought could fill a room
\nWith the bestiaries of the night.`<\/p>\n

IV<\/strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Upon the crest you cycle
\nWith the Black Hills as register.
\nSheepless and quiet.
\nThe dissemination of clouds
\nPass, yet you are the only witness
\nTo such wonder.
\nAccompanying all with aural springs
\nCadence and rhythm pick up
\nWith the invigoration of muscle.
\nThought\u2019s labour on the passing of the evening
\nStill clinging to the web of sleep
\nLike the silken trail of a woman\u2019s stocking,
\nWhile banking on your side
\nSheer locomotion shunts
\nFabulously across the morning.
\nA thousand hermaphrodites
\nLie slain and severed upon the heath,
\nYet not a sole is being recorded.
\nWhile placed religiously upon the library shelves,
\nA hundred almanacs of the tides!<\/p>\n

V<\/strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Along the footpaths, trees stand erect
\nAs arrows, Virgilian sentinels
\nTo patrol the fingerless dawn.
\nWisps of Rose.
\nCotton fields upended.
\nThe fields are aliens reflected
\nIn the lagoons filled with
\nThe mythology of both Roman and Norsemen.
\nOut by Lambay their ghost\u2019s hover.
\nFingal\u2019s cave but a haven for 19th<\/sup> century
\nSmuggler.
\nThere is ruin and mail under the watery skin
\nOf every wave. Gut its belly,
\nDebone and scale the morning.
\nThe electric prophets prophecy nothing.
\nMendacity is cultural.
\nAural pollution is on the wing.
\nEmissaries of the void would but spill.
\nFrustrate them.
\nOffer other flavours of the evening.
\nThe evenings where shapes still bring
\nMythologies as finely wrought
\nAs summer dresses
\nGarlanding the superb limbs
\nOf the approaching Amazons.
\nSee there!
\nNow, they come\u2026<\/p>\n

VI.<\/strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

The elemental walk of the Vitruvians,
\nDivinely proportioned,
\nAqueous folds cocooned in the lithe
\nExpansive limbs of the morning.
\nFlesh burnished by a billion suns,
\nAtomised to the core; Bataille\u2019s erotic
\nSolar economics beats all Keynesian excess.
\nEven pedestrian they Kill, for She is slow.
\nHer cadence and rhythm shift in shapes
\nOf undulating, mesmerising patterns.
\nYou follow her like a servant, reciting some lost phrase,
\nBringing to her the garlands of the morning.<\/p>\n

\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Spring For Lois P. Jones \u00a0 I The gentle discord of rainfall, its alternating static dance are Reeds of air in suspension before the corona of sensation. A droplet splashes and trickles along your neck, its joyous grief is welcomed by you with a shudder. The courage of the leaf passes beneath the banks of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":237,"featured_media":12753,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14],"tags":[6757,7115,7341],"class_list":["post-12706","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poetry","tag-oneill","tag-peter","tag-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12706","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/237"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12706"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12706\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12706"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12706"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12706"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}