About…
The poem is about the destruction of
Virginia Woolf
primarily by herself .
Book 301 is intended to be a collection of poems by Mike Burr for 2010 with no thematic precept.
Virginia Woolf
converging paths backward into obscurity
diverging paths forward into oblivion
is this a mountain or a valley we stand upon
can we see thus far or know this much
one could never tell with her writing
writing as she did about seeming nothings
nothing but feelings endlessly analysed
like small pebbles felt till smooth and then broke open
always searching for the egg inside
the egg that was a bird or now a crystal
and was in fact just rock and rubble
she adorned her coat with rocks
and walked gracefully into the long limbed ooze
the liquid arms loved her willow slender skin
cool caressed her shallow legs she waded on
in slowly garnered roach green depths
and dappled shadow shorn below
the rippling river closed around her strands
her long black coat that eddies in its glass
and through the motives and contorted life
emotions
amplified by sun and water streams
distort the pebbled bed below
that furnishes our doubts
upon which life our course is run
meandering uncertain in the gradient
sometimes fast and flurrying
oft times expedient
there is nobility in death the river says
as when in flat estuaries it mingles
brine and tears of bygone years
there is no finality in life it says
as on it marches reborn as clouds in afrique
or in byzantine wells to run past ancient pyramids
in amniotic tales
a womb that reaches back
there is no life that i know without water
and extraordinary life full they say of nothings
then dire incident
the they are washed of feelings currents running
emotions dark passages that snake beneath the sunny rocks
that etch from solid calcite
its fearful labyrinths or shocking sudden chasms
insecurities until that roof collapse
and sunlight fills their dripping tortured hollows
or buries in assenting graves of lime
those woe begotten days