Appellation
Saturday Asides: A Weekly Presentation of Poetry and Prose
Appellation
Sonic forms
cast sessile instantiations
throughout the tensile vine
upon narrative webs that enrapture
life's breath-leavened cline with a grander design.
Just as alpha-privative and errant lips strung soft,
silk lines to tie and bind the cosmos
into a cunning immensity of
captured crystalline lurkers
who prowl behind every
sinistral facet.
Fatal aspects spy those who speak
with many eyes—confined, innumerable,
and unseen by the blind,
like salt in water.
The sting leads the way.
Given names long gone astray
live to cease upon the end of me.
All's feast upon ultimacy means
the sight of my universe will
finally rest in peace.
Astonishing how the words and image of your poem seem to pivot on the line "the sting leads the way" inviting multiple rereads, to discover 'a cunning immensity' of depth within this 'narrative web'.
Your use of language is captivating, weaving sound and imagery into a cosmic journey of seeking. 🤍🙏
Kameron, your poem feels like a dream speaking in riddles of grief, identity and dissolution all woven into sound. I hear the ache of trying to name what’s vanishing and the quiet courage of doing so anyway. It’s haunting, but also tender ... like salt in water, the sting is leading the way.
In pure synchronicity, I've been writing this afternoon about a memory of silence and speech. Perhaps that's why your words resonate so deeply ... they're touching something familiar to me, something still listening. 🙏💖