Thursday, September 23, 2010



The empty space is pregnant

So much the sun in glowing

Even if not showing

Her efforts for a tan.

Glancing at the passing blue

The sun blinks.

A spot, a speck she cannot name

Holds a lamp. A lamp!

A captured flame

“Blue!” sun says, “This angers me!”

“Worry not, “ earth replies,

“I'll deal with it accordingly.”

Grecian buildings proudly stand

Stone to stone like hand in hand

Lamps supplying dark's demand:

A reason to be seen

Vesuvius stirs and grumbles

Greeks accounting alcohol

For shaky feet and giddy tumbles

Thus the folly of the fall

Mountain's mouthpiece belches once

“Oh, but thunder! Nothing much!”

Parade inside in languid rush

Leaving but a loaded hush

Then ashes tapping on the roof

“Oh, but hail,” irresolute

Fevered breathing ends deceiving

New focus on the act of leaving

People jumble in the streets

Chased by flames in bas relief

“That,” sun say, “Is fire free!”

Satisfied with such conceit,

The sun returns to tanning


Heather said...

Greg.... will you please get published already?

Greg Thomas said...

Thanks Heather. I actually got a book on places to mail poems to a few years back. Mailed out a dozen or so envelopes (some had submission fees) and got kind of frustrated.
At the moment, I'm thinking give it a year (=52 new poems) and then think about getting published again.

throughcloudedglass said...

Hey Greg,
can i turn this into a song?

Greg Thomas said...


as long as i get credit for the original poem, yeah go ahead. love to hear how it turns out.