Far darker than blue,
Its in stark contrast to black,
Endless and infinite,
Even as you sit staring at the endlessly shifting screen of interchangeable earth,
And walk in light to the sun,
While a butterfly beats it's wings causing a notion of calm around the world,
For the smoke fades in the last winds of time,
Then infinite is bountiful in it's final page,
Turning to white with no light as the sun ate you whole,
Staying land locked with the endless before you,
To afraid to explore anything but home,
The blue turns dusk spotted lights,
Froth bursts lightly like fire and cannons-and green too becomes a desire-
in the spot of ecstasy,
Of intolerable imaginative beliefs-
for the light to never fade
like love fading from hearts.
The poem was untitled so as the reader can form a meaning that is significant to themselves. If I had labeled it anything but a poem, I felt it would have lost most of it's essence.
The following poem was written while I was studying abroad in the Czech Republic.
Justin Vaisnor
Czech
Countryside
Green
and yellow
Fields
of grass,
Dark
clusters of
Inviting
trees,
Rolling
homely hills.
From
out of the ground,
An
uncomforting image.
Smoke
travels high,
Spewing
to the atmosphere,
Like
a dreaded mushroom cloud.
The
fields, the forests,
And
those holy glorious hills,
Are
disturbed by monsters.
The
number,
Like
the number of directions,
And
neither,
Can
point to what is right.
Those
beasts help and harm,
The
gigantic smoke stacks expel,
Pain
and questions.
Summer 2010, Czech Republic
Justin Vaisnor
