The bells ring out, complete the change,
though it must chime, appeal against
the sentence set, the line declared
as pitch for pithy witty cant.
Discard the mask, reveal the real,
cast off cloaked, exocarpial,
anatomy of who we are;
a complement in being self.
where layered lying lies but hides,
bound outer skin, rind, candied peel
which decorates, but sure not core,
a racket in protection garb.
Strip off pretence, defensive front,
and take the roughage in your stride,
the bark that sounds far worse than bite.
But that discarded be not waste,
though shrivelled, cast off to the heap,
for time will work to resurrect
in compost, friable for growth
that future seed may come to birth,
the earth renewed, a pearl from grit.
Though carillon, it takes its toll,
the knell that marks the passing way,
however batty belfry cries,
and let the campanile sing
out, out a celebration peal.
Exocarpial? I Had to look that one up.
You have a rare talent. The richness of your vocabulary and exquisite rhythm and phrasing of the words are soothing and moving in equal measure. Reading your poem several times releases some dormant dopamine like dark chocolate for the mind.
I think Rina has summed this up for both of us. Quite often after reading your poetry Stephen I am lost for words ( of which you have so many) I envy your ability to pluck a word from obscurity and yet use it so eloquently.
what a perfect image and wording: ”where layered lying lies but hides, bound outer skin, rind, candied peel which decorates, but sure not core, a racket in protection garb.”
so often i feel, your poems are so excellent and cleverly written, I cannot really comment anything of big value. So I often just tick the heart. But this one made me feel a little different, so i decided to comment snd hope you don’t mind. what was different, was the connection I felt. it took me in and be part of it, rather than leave me stand there in awe. its if course not the first time and probably very individual. bur I feel its the most important criteria …