Two Poems by Jason Alan Wilkinson
Wake me
Wake me
in paroxysms of twilight
Its soft voice
under the trees
Spent beams
quivering in a dim arc
above faded stone
Guide me
along moss-bejeweled
thoroughfares
heraldic frescoes
of silver and blue
Let me kneel at the river’s edge
rake my fingers
through incandescent loam
Wake me
where threadbare pennons
from gothic bowers dangle
Lift me
with mornings untamed requiem
Wake me
among the dead lamps reclusive bleeding
Wake me in the twilight.
The sky is ever deliquescent
moulting ephemeral
sanguine pins
a juggernaut dancing gloveless
in the architecture
beyond torpid hostelries
words unravel characters
fall and blackened men
construct gauzy daydreams
neath a long, silent carapace
:spawning dark agents
Meadows basque
purblind and bliss-weary
travellers on the damp leaves
restored by Summer’s fawning bouquet
sprawl among those unabbreviated pastures
to catch the whim of its lingering breath
Along the floss windows blush
their scarlet panes like burnished flowers
Eyes maladjusted to Dawn
her pale torch crowning the heavens
flutter before a cascade of sharpening light
Where druids gleaned laconic wisdom
through a dusky flame
and the now derelict
moss-covered spires
with footsteps rang
Where voices trapped amid fluted yarn
spun hircine dreams
a cobbled web now
reaches to the sea.
Author’s Bio: Jason Alan Wilkinson is a writer living in New York. His work has appeared through a menagerie of small press vehicles, among which include Hazmat, Four W, Square Lake, Iconoclast, and at least one hand-stapled feminist zine. It is the philosophy of Mr. Wilkinson that while poetry may not enjoy the celebrity of days gone by, it remains a vital component of our cultural signature, and should therefore guiltlessly impel those who continue to regard its annals with wonder, ever forward. He can be reached at: jasonawilkinson@yahoo.com.
To download these poems by Jason Alan Wilkinson in PDF, click CLRI March 2012
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