Friday, July 9, 2010

The House of Fear

The House of Fear

Stained glass windows
are for apparitions,
wrinkles of light

carefully transferred
on to a blank skin
of warriors locked in

a closed room for
a millennium
their sense of purpose,

sense of direction made
into false maps
for an intricate maze

of dreaming, of ceremonial
rites, complex passages
through the restless lives

of the dead, nascent images
of desert lost
impressed upon their eyes

forced to listen to glass
harmonica music
that comes in colors,

tones more intricate than
the silent fugue
they must wrap themselves in,

strapped in tighter than blankets,
tighter than chains,
tighter than the burning barque

their ancestors went to see in
one last time;
now that a killing frost has

arrived, not even the desert
heat can save them,
can make the rainbows music,

fractured into parts, whole
once again, can make
the blended colors adhere

to the mortified flesh their
complete mythic
history is recoded on

the way is lonely in complete
darkness, blind to all
patterns of travel laid out;

beyond impenetrable walls
life has no meaning
and the silence they are

searching for absolute

--Alan Catlin's work has appeared just about everywhere. He clones himself to be prolfic. Alan's work can be found at or in: Abbey, Calliope Nerve, Iodine Poetry Journal, ZYX, Brevities, and Origami Condom amongst others.

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