Sined Transition
She sined in hieroglyphics.
Curvaceous maneuvers of rhomboid regalia,
listing waves of hands, butterflied.
Battered, in brilliance, she tilted and wove,
thinnest fingers that called for attention.
She sined in numerals of valiant frustration,
her phase-shift out of band, remembered.
Fingers were her lips and tongue,
and so she signed in
moves of beauty.
Attenuation over-pronounced, she flared,
faded spread of cobbled webs.
Lisps caught headlong on nails torn asunder,
and she signed,
and she lined me with fear,
so much fear.
She sined to me in geometry,
wavelengths captured, fluttering forward.
Sputtered vowels and staccato clicks
of fingers too numb and too weary.
Laid her back down amid her own drying pool.
Coagulation recalled her into itself,
fragile surface spreading cracks,
her fingers spun the story.
Lips they silently moved, to say,
and then entrenched in visceral fluids,
she sined through death-throes of agony,
floated up and began to change.
Shivers, trembles upon her lips;
hands, oh how they picked the cue
to emphasize her weighted horror.
"Someone give this girl a voice!"
Through eyes, I heard it all.
Held her close as orbs leapt afire.
She triggered not once but twice,
sluicing juices flooding the pavement,
fingers danced and signed regret,
rolling back, her last word given,
her muteness almost complete.
A glance would not reveal her condition.
Death stripped away her attributes.
Flaws forgotten, tongued and slid forward,
but her graceful hands, even in digress,
spoke in volumed secretions.
And she changed right there in front of me.
Floated up to claim her prize.
Outstretched fingers grasping:
at silent truths,
at muted lies.
Then she billowed out and was gone.
* * *
Copyright © 1998 by Richard
fascinating, compelling... and innovative... lingers and moves
I come back to read this periodically, and I love it more with each visit. I wish I had to patience to find this much depth. Someday.
The Enchantress, captured and tempted us one last time.
Ha ha... A mathematical masterpiece. I can only say your protagonist might not have to had put up such an effort if she'd had a cosiner. : D
Richard, I'm not bold enough to say that I completely understood all that was going on in this well written piece but I can tell you that the experience was other worldly for this reader. Your friend in words, Pete
this is a brilliant poem...It is like watching the beauty of a flower...wonderful, Richard
Beautifully mystic, Richard...how well you use the live-wire word ‘sine’ in this piece...thanks, you made me learn a few things on Hieroglyphics in addition
I am totally blown away by this magnificent piece...Fingers were her lips and tongue, I like that....fantastic !
(channeled)
Fantabulous... suspended feeling like I'm on top of the pyramids concluded like some giant microwave producing mega energy chanelled not on this earth but beyond the stars and the moons scattered across the galaxy. I'm transcended beyond explanation!
Wow. Indeed this is beyond my vocabulary at the moment, a marvel at building intense and extreme interest and anticipation, reaching the climax it suddenly blinked out in an instant at the concluding line. Fantastic seems too paltry. Intriguing, it eludes me entirely, fascinating to be sure. Brilliant to say the least, splendid, breathtaking. I am floored. Wow. Awesome. Excellent imagery and delicious rendering of the mystery unfolding and vanishing in thin air.
wow!!! that is stunning holy mackerel Shazam .. so cool.yes indeed it makes my mind sing with joy of new light
I am captivated by this write but must confess I do not understand it all. It has such depth that I falter at trying to dig in and find its true meaning. I am such a shallow poet. I visualize a woman signing sign language, writing in calligraphy and hieroglyphics, an artist painting on the sidewalk, colors drying and cracking, ink pools coagulating, a true artist trying different medias trying to find their true voice in art. So please Richard write to me and tell me if I am anywhere near on the mark. cyber hugs, Susan