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THE RISE AND FALL OF SPLENDORA
I stand before the mirror in the old sunken
ship.
Barnacled and crustaceus, I am a wreck,
but shine my wild weird aquatic light, despite.
Blue-green shot through with gold, I am old
as the rising day; by turns
tired, stuck, electric, alive;
turning the tide of chaos
to roar out my solitude
in bright array.
So, to accentuate my inner beauty,
which I cannot yet trust,
I tape pieces of the past
to my skin; photographs and images
of where I have been.
I paint my eyes,
erect a skyscraper to climb,
and close my mind
to feel the fishes nibble me,
even as I float free, soar and fall
gracelessly
away from the lie.
For it is in the depths
I will always sleep
so peacefully perfect,
the very pearl
I am.
Poetry by Galen Wade (attibuted to Blenda
Galano)
