paean to the eons of the sky, stars reflect
in the million jewels of every modern city
we rage, moths fanning the flames
of our own inevitable demise:
so pretty.
{delusions of /after/ grant grandeur
to less meaning than an angel could dance upon, but
without some damper on perspective, all we have
is now, and future-now, and gone}
raise a torch to beauty—her fat will render
enough light
to pen
our little ditty.
Kaolin Imago Fire is a conglomeration of ideas, side projects, and experiments. Outside of his primary occupation, he also develops computer games, edits Greatest Uncommon Denominator Magazine, and very occasionally teaches computer science. He has had poetry published in Strange Horizons, Every Day Weirdness, and Bull Spec, among others.
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3 Responses to “WE BURN OUR WORLD– • by Kaolin Imago Fire”
Comments
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November 29th, 2011 at 2:44 pm
I like the final two Shakespearean-like lines.
Since it’s the head of a pin which an infinite number of angels can dance upon, the fact that meanings are not pinheads’ might explain the situation. The old quip, of course, refers to the spacelessness of angels. In fable they have other dimensions.
So pretty – sky, torches, paeans, stars, jewels, flames, angels, dances, beauty, light. One lovely image after another. No damper on perspective here!
Excellent pacing.
November 30th, 2011 at 11:19 am
Thank you. =)
December 2nd, 2011 at 2:36 pm
As Roberta said, this is pretty, but oh, so sad. I am reminded of Maupassant’s short story Boule de Suif in the last stanza.