Blue Flower

Formless words...broadcast scribbling space--their
diagram of poetic motion washes over you--formed
on impact.
Darkroom's glow in broad daylight--your fully
developed picture...deepest blue of two worlds in
one, betwixt vibration.
Hue of the canonized, twanging entire a
cloudless sky...enriched tenfold in mimicry of you.
If only stained glass and silk would wed, search
light's spectrum...distillate the most subtle gradation
of blue--then might you see a just replica?
Visionary's shield, where earthen wend unveils the
abyssmal...that eyes remain upon you--till one is
ferried, and vision seen through.
Apogee of seventh sea...epicenter of dancing
Nine Muses, whose round keeps the blue flower
earthbound.
Blue flower of the poet's pilgrimage, whose
synesthesia electrifies.
Blue flower...a nebula pinned to earth, the name of
spring born of you.
The Golden Section of angels fly their flawless
form to you...that high art may pray to high art.
Blue flower, commended spirit rife with grace...
whose ceaseless hour at hand holds beauty alone.
Mind, quill to tongue riven--if ever...ever is now--
blue flower...ever is now.
The words of this poet have begun fasting...not
to eat of what they cannot sacrifice...their
blue flower.


Konstantinos Mark