Without Saying


Absolute death

looms at the horizon of events

where everything stops

without disappearing


The world evens out

The sky takes a deep breath


The passing moments

are transparent carriers of riddles


Everywhere budding bodies


The world goes without saying


I erase / raise random words / days

in a text / diary

to see what appears / remains


Beginning as an obligation,

reading Proust became a necessity

and a way of living, for a time


In the morning

I let life rise slowly

like a galaxy

pretending to lift it

with my eyes


but the world goes without saying


My skeleton, porous, light,


like Hariprasad Chaurasia's flute,

while outlines of heavy prisons & hospitals soar


like mirages of distant dancing elephants

on the savannah


Glenn Gould's eagle claws move

across the keys

without ever getting a hold


Bach is a pre-historic Hopi divinity,

retreated into a rock face in Arizona,

and the world goes without saying,

the world goes without saying


I am an interpreter of years,

translating faces

of the alleged,

hiding under their likelihoods,


across blind windows of pain,

the depths of abandoned wells

of farms

returning to the wild,

stacked high with the unseeing,

while silence rattles

its loose signposts

of a Warner Wild West setting,

and my mind, relieved, dissolves

in the fragrance of wild rosemary

and John Sheppard's In Manus Tuas ,

the northern wilderness pure and lonely


as the world goes without saying


Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 29 times
Written on 2023-03-02 at 11:00

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Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Well, it goes without saying that this is a deep meditative and meaningful work, Ingvar. (I couldn't resist that, sorry.) :)
The first stanza is really brilliant. I love it. As I do the rest of course. It has all the hallmarks of a Nordin poem with the inclusion of music. :)
Blessings, Allen