untethered,
cells run renegade,
pathologic lines laying down armor
en cuirasse;
which is what kills
in the end, the immortal
simply something that refuses to die
when prompted
and waits,
bloodless
like the old gods,
hungry for ichor
unsustainable,
we forget
how to live
with our own blood
Love the imagery Susan. Living in our own blood– so very true!
Audra, thank you.
“the immortal, simply something that refuses to die when prompted” is a great image within a great poem. This one is emotional, yet understated in a way, conjures up a range of emotions for me as I read it.
Thank you, Purple. This was a bit of inspiration that hit after I should have been sleeping
isn’t that always the way it is? LOL I think my Muse waits until my head hits the pillow and then she maliciously starts poking me with ideas!!
Very interesting approach here, Susan. We certainly have gotten out of synch with what is natural and sustainable — as if we could just decide how life works, and of course, blood will out! Thanks. k.
Thank you, K.
“pathologic lines laying down armor” gorgeous complexity
Thanks, Shrinks.
Susan, I enjoy your biologic and medical poems. Refreshing (to an old doc).;-) Alice
untethered, such a key word, laid down as a foundation.
Yes. A word I love.
Tethered slash untethered, I use them on occasion as well.
Perhaps because we both like to be set free.
One of the aspects of your writing that I always enjoy, Susan–these lines of biology, religion, self interlacing, interacting. Metaphors with multiple meanings challenging my thoughts. And then those moments when nature arises again, drawn up in your words, allowing me to simply relax. And feel.
George, thank you. As always, loving the depth of your comments and vision.