SIKELIA AETNA*

I am watching smoke
Rushing ahead like a wild horse
On the foreground fires for one instant the lava
In its frail peacock's trail then tearing
Off its shirt of a sudden
And open its breast
To mimic islets of jagged rocks
Melting together little
By little into the lucid sea of air
Where all prophetic bathing
Is phantom




___________________________

  • from Gk. Sikelia, Lat. Sicilia = SICILY - island off the southern tip of Italy.

  • Aetna (Etna) is a volcano in Sicily, from an indigenous Sicilian language: aith-na "the fiery one," from Proto-Indo-European: aidh-na, from base ai- "to burn."


  • OTHER POEMS...


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    Ctrl+Alt+Del

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    Alcoholic accordion

    End season

    Uncoiling spiral

    First World

    Ultimate reassurance

    Figment

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    Rotting Fowl

    Dried up

    Words in music

    Celtic heather

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    Contrast

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    SPECULAte

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    Avian sleep

    Borgesian

    L.U.C.A.

    Cosmic Surplus

    Choosing the Edge

    Kissing shock

    Quantum Superimposition

    Middle Stance

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    Germinate

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    Night verses

    Respond

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    Enema Blues

    Pagis page

    Insurgence

    Sikelia Aetna

    My journey

    Only

    Body odours

    Applebud

    Simile

    Another You

    Impalpable

    Possibility

    Íkaros envisioning

    Cups

    Prickly Magnet

    Reversion

    Cortège

    Almost the same

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    Forked painting

    Seeding

    Wastage

    Epitaph

    Fear List & Nightmares
    [restricted +18]

    Vampyrus


    Waterhouse"s Roses

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    Daubmir"s Rose


    MAY

    I

    BREAK

    YOUR

    HEART

    TONIGHT?


    Rose Noire


    The
    Infinite
    Divisibility
    Of
    Being
    Where
    Nothing
    Is
    Really
    Connected
    To
    Anything
    Else
    Except
    By
    Language
    As
    You
    Can
    Always
    Split
    AtomoV
    Into
    Other
    Levels
    Of
    Division
    Down
    To
    Quarks
    And
    Electrons
    And
    More
    And
    No
    One
    Really
    Knows
    Anything
    Very
    Important...
    Yet

    Three Graces, by M Parkes - click to enlarge
    Nothing fascinates me more
    than the expanded reflection
    of my spirit


    What

    Came

    Before

    The

    Beginning

    And

    What

    Will

    Happen

    After

    The

    End?



    La Rose Noire de Daubmir


    Not

    only

    is

    nothing

    good

    or

    ill

    but

    thinking

    makes

    it

    so,

    but

    nothing

    is

    at

    all,

    except

    in

    so

    far

    as

    thinking

    has

    made

    it

    so.

    ~ Samuel Butler ~