Journey of the Spirit

Having arrived
journey done
drifting on feathers
burnt through
a sputtering flame
licking its own wounds
after so many miles
millennia of appetite
and sky—
who would have thought
the earth would be so
cold?

- Neil Ellman

(featured in the poetry forum 11.20.11)

editor's note: A shivering soar and glide to roost, but not rest, on an empty stomach. Cold, indeed! - mh

Prufrock Redux

I am old
Prufrockian old
(I am told)
My toes are cold
Teeth filled with gold
I cannot hold
A fork.

I am old
A very old
Cuckold

(Not bold
I am told)
There is mold
In the rolled
Fold
Of my cuffs.

Don’t scold
I am too old.

- Neil Ellman

(featured in the poetry forum 07.20.11)

editor's note: Keep yer admonitions to yerselves, youngsters! After so many years, "no excuse" is the best we can offer. - mh

Rotting Bird

(after the painting by Salvador Dalí, 1928)

Sooner or later
Everything rots
Bananas, artichokes,
Wood, stone, and bronze
Paint and poetry
Our very flesh—
Even a lifeless bird
Hanging from
A tree
Waiting
For the wind
To change
To spread
Its wings again.

- Neil Ellman

(featured in the poetry forum 06.06.11)

editor's note: Sometimes we forget to take out the garbage, flying instead on a vagrant wind, indulging our Dali - ance. - mh