i take my wrenches
brand new and gleaming
chiming like tuning forks
shining like suns
and disassemble these
clockwork angels
gears for guts
tightly-wound spring hearts
hollow aircraft grade aluminum bones
unseeing marbles embedded
in deep sockets
[they do not need to see–
they fly in darkness]
their oxyacetylene lungs
power their songs
their wings
their breath of fire
strewn about
their parts litter my garage floor
run your finger over
eight laid out in a row
and they ring
in the dorian mode
Definitely a poem worthy of note. On a scale of one to eight, I give it a nine. Never once did you fall flat! …okay, seriously. This was a really good poem. And I’m guessing you are either a musician, or you had music training.
Hi there! Thanks for all the kind words.
I used to play an instrument (like, when I was twelve or thirteen), but I basically have no musical skill. I like a good song though. If I could rhyme a little better, I might trying to write songs.
So… you knew what you were saying when you wrote “dorian mode,” yes?
I did some research. 😄
Your poem was great. The research paid off! 🙂
This is a great poem!
Thanks so much!
Funny how the mind works and assembles. I had no idea what dorian mode meant. My mind stretched toward Dorian Gray (where else was it supposed to go??)… shy, hesitant new meanings emerged. Poetry.
Sometimes I get close to what I think my poetry should be. I enjoyed this one. 😊
Wow! Fantastic to the 100th power. Your poem has a bit of steampunk, industrialism to it.
Thanks! I was looking for machine age feel.