Dark Arts

Poem By Jay Alexander

Sometimes they would hurl a voice at you
And you would try to fix it like a pinned butterfly,
You knew it was a muscular game,
Which could surprise like a bend in a river.

Now you fly kilometres
Over forest and tundra,
Stopping occasionally by a log cabin,
Drinking chai with the natives,
As fumes plume the air
And your face white tingles.

Your research proved
There were moments, captured and
Gathered like crushed ice,
Reflecting light,
Tunnelling into the outermost parts
Of the universe.

Comments about Dark Arts

well written... your use of imagery is good.
Great poem, like it. May i invite you to read my new poem called, Past Life.

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