Sometimes

[hack]

Sometimes, while I sleep
this eon's sleep
my eyelids stir,
remembering that the sun
once shone through them,
and my cool heart
mourns hot red blood.

Sometimes I wonder
if kitchen gods
huddle around warm fires yet,
or if they share this acid bog
with ten thousand muffled seasons,
and only sometimes
think of the sun.

[Lumiere]

hack,
I was despairing today about words and how old and dead they all seem once out of wherever they come from; but this is new. Thank you.

(This poem has the taste of having been translated from Spanish for some reason; I mean that complimentarily. So much movement.)

[Delta40]

Sometimes I wonder
if kitchen gods
huddle around warm fires yet,

Great lines Hack. I'm a wee bit bewildered as to the meaning but I'm pretty shallow at times. Kitchen Gods......lovely expression.

[Hawkman]

I realy enjoyed this. It's so evocative - the dream of an undisturbed bog body, asleep for five millennia in the wet, peaty caress of the earth. Wonderful.

Live long and prosper. H

[hillwalker]

I'm with Hawk - a brilliant poem evoking one of our forebears laid out to rest below some ancient burial mound perhaps and contemplating all our fates.

H

[PrinceMyshkin]

This has the clarity and the autonomous force of a single, unpremeditated breath. Bloody good!

[Jerrybaldy]

my cool heart
mourns hot red blood.

Brilliant Hack.
cheers
Jerry

[hack]

Thanks all. This was inspired by the poet Seamus Heaney's "Tollund Man".
The amazingly well preserved 2300 year old corpse was found in a peat
deposit in Denmark in 1950, and looks as if it is only sleeping...peace...