Hagiography

Hagiography

A Poem by Alistair (Ali)

I found myself smiling,
a telescope finding my
own private Jupiter
cooped in the noose
of a bulb

Yes,
its stupid to measure in hope-
-  this I know
but I’m told it's the last
thing to die....

So why would
I sully such luminary
wisdom...

.. . In  kingdoms of
merciless churches I find
myself smiling

  ...the search is still on
for a cause to believe in

but I shall be biding 
my time.

© 2017 Alistair (Ali)


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Reviews

I do believe..but not in those man made things
A higher ground I do find.. in hopes and longing dreams..

Take all the time you need..in search of tomorrows..
but live to the fullest...today.

Very interesting...hope-full...Timely..

Jazzy........♥


Posted 6 Years Ago


Alistair (Ali)

6 Years Ago

Thank you Jazzy- I think writing gives us transport,a chance to journey and to sometime dissolve int.. read more
J. J.  Nightingale

6 Years Ago

You are welcome........... and I agree..............♥
Methinks you have kissed the Philosopher’s stone
Sir Alistair! Ahhh, are you a doubting Thomas? Your poem itself is “luminary” in its feel, language, form terpsichore, ethereal imagery and beauty...”merciless churches”-your Jupiter and I concur...we wait and hope...Magnificent write!

Posted 6 Years Ago


Alistair (Ali)

6 Years Ago

Thank you kindly, Annette,- I must admit, I do rather place my faith in doubt- but retain an interes.. read more
Great writing, interesting and thought provoking, I think a lot of people are searching in these days, good to pause and reflect on things, Thankyou

Posted 6 Years Ago


Alistair (Ali)

6 Years Ago

Thank you George- these are strange times indeed- too much surface noise is encouraged- and i believ.. read more
George Coombs

6 Years Ago

Yes, I quite agree

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Added on November 22, 2017
Last Updated on November 22, 2017

Author

Alistair (Ali)
Alistair (Ali)

Cardiff, Wales, United Kingdom



About
I write because I cannot paint. I enjoy the flavor of words, their subtle tastes and textures. I savor their spice and their sea salt. They are washed in on tides of thought, and i comb the strand.. more..

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