>king protea holes in my soul


the king protea is the national flower of south africa

i fought for the wings against african skies
like a wild roaring lion in the steppe, they
tenderly feathered towards weary eyes,

inflaming imagination like bushfire when
fluid, white, viscous sails threw long
shadows on summer-tired days, melting my

dripping point to almost nothing – all ease
and freedom and wonder in hard beaten
lands. and painting the skies with my fingers,

moist with sweat i waited for the silky surplices
to cover red glowing king protea holes in my
soul – but they never managed.

this was inspired by a discussion between some crazy poets :=) if wings or surplices would be the better word in the poem of a lovely south african lady….leaving the conversation, i started to write…


12 responses to “>king protea holes in my soul

  1. >And you wrote so well. Hope the "crazy poets" saw this.Claudia, I just finished reading about three or four of your latest poetry posts. Didn't comment on them 'cause I'm trying to catch up on my blog reading and trying to save on time. But you know already how much I love your writing. I hope somehow, by osmosis maybe, some of your creativity rubs off on me. Hope you had a wonderful Christmas. I did.

  2. >…oh Claudia, Buschfeuer brennen und Blüten leuchten…Finger malen am Himmel……du malst mit Worten…danke……ja, ich hoffe, du hattes ein frohes, erfülltes Weihnachtsfest? …der Blog deiner Tochter ist sicher auch ein Weihnachtsgeschenk für dich…

  3. >That was my favorite part the "the silky surplices to cover red glowing king protea holes in mysoul – but they never managed." How do you do that? Flow one metaphor into another like water flowing surface to surface changing and splashing. You're fantastic.

  4. >I saw the other accolades you posted on FB regarding this poem as well. Congrats Claudia. You deserve the best. and I love anything that reminds me of Africa, so thanks 🙂