Elegy for Charles Bukowski
Much said
so many
words from an open wound
pained
biting hard
teeth on flesh
till more than words
consonants torn
from bone
and every day
spoke as if the world were
he
spit inquisitions of the soul
drowned in sacraments
of wine
and then
the end
on staggering feet
still unrhymed.
All Saints I
(after the painting by Wassily Kandinsky)
Out of nothingness
nothing
zero
the shape of air
fire
kissing soundless lips
the saints of exasperation
red yellow blue
no shape
no words
flash
endless prayers
to empty space
Neil Ellman lives and writes in New Jersey. With almost 500 published poems to his credit, his work appears throughout the world, from Australia to Zimbabwe. The latest of his eight chapbooks, Convergence and Conversion, is just out from The Knives Forks and Spoons Press in the United Kingdom.
Neil's poetry is lovey in form and sound. The first poem, "Elegy for Charles Bukowski," is particularly pleasing. "spit inquisitions of the soul / drowned in sacraments" Nice! Write on!
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