It is entirely possible that you might never read this otherwise. I was looking for another poem when I came across this in Rain City Review v.?, n.?, Summer/Fall 1998: A Locus For Eden, by James Doyle

The skull distills the sun, shadow
by shadow, like black honey
across the descent of its eyes. The day
licks at the hours, a centipede
winding in and out, deepening the hollows
until they pulse with opaque
light, membranes
that distill the evening, a garden
where a god-like figure walks
the black trees
and searches for a cover
of flesh
to hide such awful knowledge.
I'd rather leave it without further comment at this time and see what it brings.

:m:,
Tiassa :cool:

Not very descriptive of the intended Eden is it!!!

seems more like anti-Eden.

It's symptomatic of mystical and metaphysical considerations of myth. I think it lends more toward the notion of the psyche behind a god created by man, but that's just an instinctive reaction.

:m:,
Tiassa :cool:

It's . . . :confused: . . .

. . . so some guy made money with this poem? :bugeye:

think it lends more toward the notion of the psyche behind a god created by man, but that's just an instinctive reaction.

Well, its not an instinctive reaction, but a reaction triggered by the fact that first eight lines describe the opposite of the accepted way of looking at these things, and it's quite a pessimistic picture. I love the imagery.

Redoubtable

He maybe made twenty bucks. Less the expense of mailing the page to the magazine. Of course, he can always write that expense off.

Whitewolf

I love it, too. Then again, the juxtaposition digs after a gnostic presupposition that I accept, so I'm bound to have certain sympathy toward the imagery.

:m:,
Tiassa :cool: