We have retained our lustre,
no vile jellies, and yet we know
darkness. We orbs are oratory
with the resonance
of a Shakespearean player.
We have a direct line
to the brain, filtering light
to conjure colour.
But we need lenses, windows
on blurry landscapes, distorted
Giacometti figures, aliens
in our owner’s ocular world.
We are tired after all these years
of looking, reading, seeing
beyond words and images.
We are prickling and bruised
irises or thistles, friable
pillows of delicate hairs,
nerves and capillaries tipped
with light; crystalline cameras
until cataracts gather
like thunder clouds,
all dark and comfortless.
Where is our lustre now?
Kim M. Russell, 25th June 2019
Although I am currently tied up with paid seasonal employment, I have found half an hour to take part in the Arvon 5-Day Poetry Challenge (#5DayPoetryChallenge, #NationalWritingDay).
Yesterday we created clouds of words, phrases, thoughts and ideas, and today’s prompt takes us ‘back to our messy, mysterious, animal-selves’: we are concentrating on parts of our bodies.
This is the first draft of a poem that evolved from questions such as: If it could talk, what would my chosen body part say? What accent does it speak with? Would its voice be like mine or radically different? What’s interesting about it?
writing in north norfolk 
This is such a strong piece, Kim. We process so much info through our eyes, while taking the sense for granted most of the time, and what of the small things in the peripheral vision? The things we can’t ignore, or alternatively, choose to.. A most thought-provoking perspective.
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Thank you, Kerry. It’s the first poem I’ve written in several weeks, but I hope to get back to writing every day again by the middle of next week. I’ve really missed it and I’ve missed all our fellow writers, as well as the imaginative and creative prompts.
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