dark fiction, dark poetry, Fiction, literature, poems, poetry, poetry readings, Uncategorized, writer, writing

A Slice of Infinity (Friday Night Poetry Corner #39)

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Greetings again everyone.

On a more lighter note (heart still goes out to my home town of St. Louis, MO), it is time for another Friday Night Poetry Corner #39; THE SATURDAY EDITION.

Yeah, I know, I’m a late.

This nice work of poetry called A Slice of Infinityfrom the Carbon Noise Poetry*** blog is a wonderful vivid poem of a voice at a door of something. You my fellow poets, artists, writers, etc.. be the judge of this work, the surreal turns to something you must read for yourself..

Thanks again for visiting and visit the Carbon Noise Poetry Blog from time to time..

Carbon Noise Poetry

The other night,
I saw a saffron moon,
Horizon low in the sky.
Nestled between two,
Parallel shelves of cloud.
Optically tinted,
And augmented.
There it hung,
Glowing softly,
Like a great celestial,
Yellow lantern.
I had to ignore,
The almost physical need,
Like a lump of urgency,
In my chest,
Compelling me,
To photograph it.
But the sublime,
Cannot be captured,
Nor confined.
So I chose instead,
To savor that moment,
Like a slice,
Of yellow moon cake.
So delicious.
And yet so fleeting.
One tiny piece,
Is all I got.
But I’ll remember,
The taste of it forever.

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One thought on “A Slice of Infinity (Friday Night Poetry Corner #39)

  1. I am just…wow….almost at a loss for words. So honored, humbled, and touched that you reblogged my poem.

    It was inspired partially by a recent trip to a popular tourist attraction in Stockholm. The Vasa is a salvaged wooden warship that sunk shortly after being launched in the mid 1600s. It lay at the bottom of the sea for three hundred years before it was salvaged through extraordinary feats of ingenuity. It’s one of the greatest engineering achievements of the 20th century. As walked around in a state wonder that this incredible thing was right in front of me, and marveling at how it got there, I noticed that there were groups of tourists who weren’t really looking at it. They’d walk up to a part of it and take a picture, and then quickly walk to another part and take another picture, and so on. It struck me that often we’re so obsessed with documenting and recording everything from the mundane to the extraordinary, that we don’t really appreciate them. We don’t really look at them.

    What I saw and felt when I looked at that moon was like looking into the infinite, for one brief moment. Such things can never be photographed. They can only be interpreted.

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