(mythic distillation)
This morning
the body is granted movement again –
air beneath the clouded cover,
fire already awake below
The self is read
as illusion,
the first person a trick of light;
a book held like a charm
against the lie of flesh
For the body,
once door and horizon,
now raises a scabbed wall
on the only road
Pain circles the bed,
patient, starving.
I remain still,
listening for chemistry,
for mercy in molecules
Cities stir elsewhere:
heated cells of light,
figures dressing in sequence,
machines humming their rites
Flows begin –
toward offices, marinas, counters,
through rooms of clicking coffee,
where time is spent
before it is noticed
Death is everywhere,
unnamed yet sovereign,
thickening the air of malls and squares,
sorting bodies by weight, by hunger, by screen
Over us old ones
lies a final shade –
furniture dimmed, garments subdued –
beneath a winter sky
echoing blue from edge to edge,
while the sun, enraged,
drives its golden chariot
straight through the eye
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
Written on 2026-01-31 at 23:08
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Penultimate January (II)
This morning
the body is granted movement again –
air beneath the clouded cover,
fire already awake below
The self is read
as illusion,
the first person a trick of light;
a book held like a charm
against the lie of flesh
For the body,
once door and horizon,
now raises a scabbed wall
on the only road
Pain circles the bed,
patient, starving.
I remain still,
listening for chemistry,
for mercy in molecules
Cities stir elsewhere:
heated cells of light,
figures dressing in sequence,
machines humming their rites
Flows begin –
toward offices, marinas, counters,
through rooms of clicking coffee,
where time is spent
before it is noticed
Death is everywhere,
unnamed yet sovereign,
thickening the air of malls and squares,
sorting bodies by weight, by hunger, by screen
Over us old ones
lies a final shade –
furniture dimmed, garments subdued –
beneath a winter sky
echoing blue from edge to edge,
while the sun, enraged,
drives its golden chariot
straight through the eye
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
Written on 2026-01-31 at 23:08
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
