Music of the Contours
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
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The way that curls are lovelier than straight,
And golden necklace sets its pearls in grace,
That nuns’ necks bow into novitiate,
That perfect comets bend to spangle space,
Your memory impairs and sags my heart.
As stars lurch into supernovae, burst,
As planets smashed by asteroids smart
With plate tectonic pain as if accursed,
My ribcage staggers, traumatized and blind,
Because a glimpse of you swerved into view.
It scraped my psyche, fragmented my mind
And left me stunned, a tingling residue.
From cataclysms such as these imposed
All bright celestial bodies are composed.
~ Phillip Whidden
