"dazzle gradually"

"Dazzle Gradually" 2017 poems, paintings, new art & photography--a diary, a discipline, a delight. Read over my shoulder as I post my unedited poetry ---you can see it in the raw or get my first book and see how the work evolves with new books rolling out next year.

Polly Alice

Friday, August 15, 2014


Those old bards, like dragons now extinct,
preserved memory in velvet purses of rhyme,
stitched with meter. Their fiery tales a breath
of vapor, have survived many fires.

Some insist memories stick to our subconscious
like stamps on a postcard with Jungian script--
Dear Ego, . . . . Love Id. Shipped through
blood lines or to the collective.

What do you say, where are our memories
archived--our senses, our walls, our clouds
and what if our pharmaceuticals or our servers
go wrong? What if our memory were lost?

Maybe control is a white dove, a mental dream
where solar flares and cosmic change have
only cool breath to blow. Where red
giants never wake, where carrier pidgeons fly.

So I will write a poem, one for each dream and one
for each memory. For every crinkled note honeyed
over in the hive of my mind, I will take it out,
smooth it over, squint at my illegible scrawls--
and from them write a story. A story about...

how we have all loved different things
a story about how we all have loved.

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