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6 January 2020 – Circles and Swirls

Something about a serious pathogen gives me hallucinations – mostly audio – that make my head spin and my balance go all to heck. Truth be known, my balance isn’t that good normally. So, just like most everyone I know, I’m doing the dance with illness and recovery. Therefore, the poem below.


Circles and Swirls

                                                She juggled oranges
                                                A birthday caked smashed my face
                                                Candles still stood flickering
                                                She fluttered her eyelashes
                                                The pony tromped a circle
                                                            carrying us one by one
                                                            trained to stay and trod the circle
                                                All of us trained to stay and trot our orbits
                                                            not even the blue sphere high above
                                                No better. No worse. Just different

                                                Each one has a secret, a treasure
                                                            hidden among balloons and bows                                            
                                                A silver fish swims around a bowl
                                                            round and round to muted delight
                                                Round and round the sweet cake swirled in our mouths
                                                Crunching down to throat’s round channel
                                                            into fleshy dark, then passing out another circle
                                                Half-circle of a swing, lately left
                                                Plastic dancers on the floor twirling
holding each other in synthetic embrace
                                                We found ghost partners and fevered floated around the room

                                                Then the rain formed rippled pools
                                                The smiling woman turning always to the left
                                                            dancing with each arriving revolution
                                                Finally, people gone; pony lead away
                                                Pieces of confetti flutter to the floor



Background
Or course, the poem can be interpreted in more ways than the symptoms of an illness. Bless anyone, however, who can parse them out. Perhaps, “Circles and Swirls” could be seen as a metaphor for life – as can most poems. And with that, I’ll leave you to the Explorations and your own interpretations.

Exploration 1: Do you ever feel like your days are turning and turning rather than moving in a straight line.

Exploration 2: What is your interpretation of this poem?









Comments

  1. I love that you just went with what you were experiencing and created from that weird and strangely beautiful place. I personally don't mind a spoonful of surrealism in my literary tea and this delivered nicely. I saw little pops of bright colors and a party carousel. To me it was magical with a hint of that dark mystery one knows lurks behind the pretty lights. A little sinister, but not enough to do harm. Maybe even a little thrilling since there's no pain or consequence. And a secret relief the party ends anti-climatically rather than regrettably. Nice!

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