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Nexus Plexus
(for Andissimostus, with much fond borrowing and punnery)

We are circadian opposites; we meet
at the crepuscular edges
in our matinal and vespertine rituals
where waning culminations unform

We are the channel and the sluice
the gatekeepers and the gated
the charged and the relenting
as the sun and moon change guard

You are weary of venery; I am
faint yet done with dormancy
Chimeric horses stamp and shudder
at the periphery of the ford

But look, the hour is draining
certain edges yet want smoothing
Aren't we endlessly preparing
for our hearth's and heartless lords?

Stay, steal a moment to conspire:
whispers make a kind of feasting
There are roses in the remnants
'tween the stamp of night and day

Jove's lush laugh is still unloosening
an unowned blush to warm chaste twilight
There's time to care and to take care
before the cicadas cease to play

"All the darkness in the world
cannot put out the light
of one candle"

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The following comments are for "Nexus Plexus"
by hazelfaern

hazelfaern's electric hocus-pocus
bewitching, hazelfaern, as usual your poem gives us mere mortals much to dwell on and will definitely draw me back again. So far I'm intrigued by the tone of the piece, which seems knowing, teasing, suggestive but also tender. I like how the words roll round the mouth too, but then I'm probably aurally fixated. What I enjoyed most, I think, is the impression I have of this hushed world, where everything is whispering and waiting and biding its time, just on the point of waking. Great atmosphere that, like static electricity. That said, I'm not sure I "get" it yet, but that hasn't marred my enjoyment of it one tiny bit.


( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: June 28, 2006 )

Stay and steal from time itself
Oh very nice... it takes class to do something this indulgently wordy, relentlessly archaic and oratorial and still pull it off: this one holds together beautifully. A poem munchable enough to induce Shannon's aural/oral disorder in an order of Carmelite nuns. If your last poem was about the shifty enslavement of time, this one is about cheating it - slipping off through the woods of time like some clever Shakespearean spirit. And I truly wish I'd written that line about 'Chimeric horses'.

Something in the final stanza strikes me as off -as if the tumty tum rhythm falters... but when I come to seek it, there isn't exactly a strict meter to be lost, so perhaps it's just my own wonky ear.
I think want something like...

Jove's lush laugh is still unloosening
unowned blush to warm chaste twilight
There is time to care and take care
'ere the shrill cicadas cease to play.

Nevertheless, I love the message wrapped up in all these rich words: that small snatched times are valuable, and that 'whispers make a kind of feasting'. So delicate, and so true.

( Posted by: MobiusSoul [Member] On: June 29, 2006 )

You speak of those gated and gatekeepers, yet this poem is unhinged and it keeps twirling in my head. Not only because of the archaic words but also because the poem seems to be teasing my every limb. Bewitching indeed.

( Posted by: Siah [Member] On: June 30, 2006 )

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