©2022 Michael Raven

cruel April brought me
cast between sunlight and
earth muddled under steel skies
sheets razor rain and
fungal outgrowth, need

worms in woolen pockets
limpid reminders of fire dreams
failing to catch spark
instead, weary worn soles
cast the kundalini drifter forth
over the edge and
into those deep, forbidden
waters licking hungry at
a grey heart wandering


ash and waste
thigh pierced by
a well-cast shaft
hobbling fantastic things
dreamed into being
in vellum

5 thoughts on “cast

  1. this is the sort of poem i use as an example when i try to explain what poetry is to my non-poetic friends. like, too much of what passes for poetry nowadays is just chopped up prose. so you have to be like, check this out–so they can see the difference. kudos my friend ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. ❤ Thank you!

      I appreciate that you notice that I am making the conscious decision to avoid prose poetry (for the most part). I've been obsessing lately about what should be *removed* from most of what I write as I try to distill the images to their base components. "Does this word enhance or distract?" kinds of questions go through my head and I find many words we use to be more distraction than enhancements.

      Thank you, again, for such high praise.

      Liked by 1 person

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