by Eileen
Berry
This horrible but superb painting
the parable of the blind
without a red
in the composition...
William Carlos Williams
Is there a poetry of red
heard by the blind?
Percussion of red, resonant,
redolent,
potent red,
that marks a red shift in
the stars, feels
lichened touch on stone,
litmus of the bone,
alizarin's taste on the
tongue?
Deep, deep red, red that
feeds all the senses,
red that is all of redness.
Cardinal, sensuous Roman
red, ancient
velvet red-dark scent of
roses.
Drumbeat sounds of red, red
pepper
burning the throat.
Red that baits the bull.
Lucky, joyful red,
slithering, soft, Chinese
wedding silks, exhilarating
blood-red wine.
Treacherous red of poppies
and poison berries.
Crimson, carmine, cerise,
cayenne,
safflower, scarlet,
vermillion.
All the dangerous, warning,
compelling, ripening,
happy, fortunate words for
red.
Red thoughts becoming red
words in language
Prometheus stole with fire
from the gods.
First published in The Licking River Review , Vol. 32, 2000-01.