by Philippe Soupaul

Night jostles her stars
It rains sand and cotton
It is so hot
but silence weaves sighs
and the glory of summer
Signals a little bit everywhere
of heated crimes
of people who’ll overthrow thrones
and a great light
in the West
and the East
tender like a rainbow
It’s noon now
All the bells answer
Waiting deaf
like a great animal
Gets its limbs out of all four corners
it advances its claws
the shadows and the beams
The sky will fall on our heads
Wind is expected
That today has to be blue
like a flag

1 thought on “GOLD MEDAL

  1. Phillipe Soupaul creates lines of anticipated syncopated music of mystery, locution and location of his own language
    which reaches out to the connectedness to other expressive
    harmonies,identities,informalities, boundaries,existences
    and pure essences in a verbal naturalism of thought.

Leave a Reply