Poem By Jonathan Colby

Lost in divine
time's measured shrine
benign elucidation springs
slaps the hand, snaps the strings
who's tension wrought a subtle plot
that poised itself and came to nought
its enduring memory drives
this twisted tine into my mind;
a shiver down my crooked spine

A pressed egress of eclipsed ideas
undresses amidst unseen geas:
invoked recklessly to prevent deconstruction
and carelessly placed in a paradigm function
Whose sphere of influence has since become swollen
Here, as I lurch and search thoughts as they're rolling
to find and reclaim all the time that's been stolen

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