Log Illustrated - a publication from the Physics RoomLog 12 - The Pink and Blue Number
Log 12 - The Pink and Blue Number

a poem by Rosanna Raymond


A borrowed drum a quiet ocean
manta rays breathing light in the
company of crescent moon sharks.
Stark reflections floating on a
whispering cloud nine, night long
long night, lingering on the way
To a sound in time, releasing gods,
crying through thicked lipped shells.
The bird beak peaks, through butterfly
thighs flutter buy the bye.
Chill, trick, lick winds, chasing slow fool moons
Waning on the other side, single stars
out late, looking for that river that runs
under the river, of my heart, a slow start.
Glassy eyed in a vitrified sky, sweet mountains
hanging around, endless nights of the outer shell.
Experienced undulating hills, fluttering ferns
glittering clitori, priestly shafts, empowered
in the dark to light.
Space...man, finding strength in soft bodies
stuck firmly on the reef in the beleaf,but
barking up the wrong tree or should i say
out of your tree, how can that that be?
Yet i feel a soft ebullience, in the quiet of a
singular sky, drop down, cascade, cloud haze,
lightly tainting a breath less.
Drag on and sitting on the fence, caressing,
fragrantly incensed, tall black knights.
Swallowing  bared branches and the many
blossoms, bleeding around the edges of a
touchy, feely, breezy, healing feeling otherwise
known as a multiple reaction, satisfaction
in action.

Log Illustrated - a publication from the Physics Room