Ripples

This is the first of two posts I am making today. This post's theme: water ripples.

Picture: "Vastness Exaggerated"



Ripples
---------

My tears imagined fall into the silent pond,
The stillness of our distress. And
These drops of purity form the circles,
The ripples, which express our universe
In its own poetry sung quietly unto
A world destroyed and delighted by so many
Globes of water falling, transforming light,
Becoming light, becoming circles interfering
With each other, becoming rings of perfection
Spoken and then quieted until
Tears fall once more.

====================

Water Made Of Our Drowning
-----------------------------------

Swallowed are the distinct verbs of this
Which ripples and emanates from its breath,
Emits from its sorrowful partitions of one
And two and three and four subdivided
Into practicality unconcerned with
Its own suffocating soul. Surreal
Is this oddness equaling a multiple
Of evenness, is the addition of zero
Onto every integer of our sacrifice, onto
Each relic of distrustful skies, onto still
The thirst for water made of our drowning, made
Of a spirit compartmentalized by such a throat.


...........................................

Into The Ripples
------------------

In the abrupt turmoil of fluid and pain
Arrived the violent soothing for which we each yearn.
And all the absurdity and eruption then coalesced,
Remaking itself into the simple ripples, curving outwards,
Radiating softly from a once haphazard center.
Ah, now we rest, and soon we metamorphose into
The silent dream within this pool, within this
Timid but perfect madness. Softly, the droplet
Exaggerates its entropy. And it strikes the stillness,
Toppling the prism in which we observe actuality.
And the splashing and spilling are subdued. For,
They eradicate themselves in their interference.
Then the ripples leave the air and transform themselves
To become the light above us. Yet
We continually assume we are earthen; yet we somehow
Believe the water is our distance. But it is
That distance that is our wondrous liquidity.

++++++++++++

Truthful Simile
-----------------------

A truthful simile is its own unmagnified determination.
Such psychotic breath redeems itself surely.
It surrenders its dimension unto this upward flight.
And then that hidden spite retreats again.
Then it surrounds us with these circles,
With this curled and glutinous twine.
Oh, outwardly the ripples converge,
Forming the ultimate boundary within us.
Inwardly the insignificance mends me,
Rendering this dream as only silt, as
Simply the tainted light of artificiality,
As the spit remade into emptiness profound.

Thanks,
Leroy Quet