top of page

Yarn Ball

  • mclaspires
  • Apr 20
  • 3 min read
  • Maiden, yonder upmost Tallest Tower, enGlen’d + Spinning 

Beauty, ne’er fair’ than earthen rarities 

           as cold, wet clay thrown-on th’ wheel;           

                                           Spun, sun-sodom & spindle yarn’d/spin’t flax grains to gilded ribbons, 

                           spider-fine silks, doll-lash-stretch->   meridian    ‘dicular among-a gravitated face; 

                           Parallel plane pulled th’ center circular, sapphire n spheric as cyclic- as death 

                           Creeping Jasmine, weaving  

floral’d vines in a spinning wheel run’t counter-clockwise. 

 

  • Exhumations- Pry’d Curses, Wafting [a] drugg’d Smoke 

                                               (just) Deafen’d instruments- enfossiled as sheet-fold’ beddings 

                                                              yet as any mattress, 

                                   surface is another layer aloof-to the core’s churn-> gradual with fever  

               Disturb’d the naturality; sleeping during work break, -on ‘til truest love’s purse of rage 

             -a kind of which rusts one’s rose  

                                                          -corrodes the grace grant from weaving-/peddling  

                                                                                     the wheel at such a speed it      felt still…,  

                                              between the whirling, bladed spokes of a horse drawn carriage  

                                                         - worming             among            the         soul-swanked       mantle 

                                                                       of Gaia’s mangled corset; taught’ly laced-to pangs & 

                            iridizing drown-choked-breath + transfix’t ribs or dwarfed guts;   

Apple chunk’d within the ‘empoisoned fainting’plunder-lodging, finger-pricking-  

 

  • Tossing/Turning- Yearns’t Wandering among Violent Unknowns 

                                    Flax under her fingernail; 

                                                                                      An inverted sparkle-       The pea, as she dreams 

The infant’s curse- to only ride if through dawn,  

            a horse she cannot tame  

deformed rays = yin of grace, vex-fueled signal fires lolled the brick  

                                                    of arrow-slit-windows west-gander’d-to-an Alaskan twilight; 

                                                    Haunted in flickered blundering, an ever-stretch of    virgin    space 

                                                    between        us .     .      .          .             .          m o   l    t     i       n        g 

            beneath brighten’d midnights  

         -Themis among candle-lit-innocence 

       shone across the other side of the wilds, 

 

  • Dreaming, The Planet as it’s Shown to You:  

Bloodied, three-legged snow bunny agonized across a white-cast abyss  

                                               flailing down-hill, as a mellow-headed rose briar- brined in its exhale  

                                                Tangled in the woven exhaust;  

      Whirl’d as their phloem tongues to sip through grease-slickened rivers 

-esta maldita tierra- 

                                            Churning inward, sleeping and shedding 

a molten swirlen’d-ness of beginnings; weight’d solitaire in  

impeding stationary murk drows’d in distillment, the snow-bed of roses 

                              turnt red & pruned from dream  

                            -a bleach, varnishing what’s stolen n’ sold back to you 

       rosepainted in synthetic-floral     parfum .  .   . 

                                                                                         How deep sleep can get,  

                    Sipping ravenously off dew’d-on petals-  

                    peppering the lune-lit, o’ernight bloom 

                                 A kitten tangling the yarn ball- unknowing bliss,  

     

  • Cryogenic Earth- Another kind of Glass Coffin 

      greenhous’d in a paternalized perfection, softly turning 

                                                                        herself to dirt in the silk-n’d pillows sank-en’to her back 

     La prima de la mariposa en vidrio, 

 -Morte [death] stapled to the dry wall, eQ.) the duck-lipped selfie; 

                                            like Taxidermy [roadkill] a (pagan) crucifix 

 “-the [spiritual] opening, foraged in the name of love 

     rearrange ‘this fruit’ into a remedy”.           -Venus                                       One hundred sleeping years spent 

        provoked & chipped in the pearl’d woodland; a scallop-like locket 

               Pining + biding; wrapped as two rose petals, (just) zealous collections of nothing,        

a winced sum oiled-in the little leaves to the -now winter’d branches, étirant   

                                   leur aride tongue’s pursed in Fuseli rigor;     “Haply some Poison yet doth hang on-“ 

                          “to be or not-                           -40,000 brothers-“                      ‘love me- love me not’ 

                  It’s soiled Potential, rot amidst Compassion; nothing beheld- alas, Passion- 

                                               Lust hauled inside a liminal womb; 

-barren in the gall of which space calls from- 

                                                 as wasps nested in the hollowed log, covered in moss n’ mushrooms 

 

  • La Belle au Bois’ Prière de Deuil,   Terre Morte 

Her ‘coffin is not your arms,’ none could sleep in a grave, if 

 “-the mattress is a table top and the bedsheet was a page”. 

 

                                                     -a load of sperm drools along, painting a dust’d easel- glacially fogg’d 

                                  among the lunette-frost, silhouette’ (asphalt) fronds shaken       

                                             & willowed, palmed in trembling radiation- bubbles of gored-o’er faith 

                                                   Angel’s shark-finned- tar n’ feathered then tossed back into the sky 

                                             Rotting little shells with dormant little lives Inside,                        ‘built to  

          fardel bare- unable to sweat/grunt in the dread’ of foot-tapping-grit 

                 -fangs in the flesh of another’s, to disrobe it’s nudity and go    

                   Beneath,      to      shuck/unearth     the      inside-      within. 

                       nay-, the newborns paviment amid universal-stroked-calm-masses 

          Virgin-wept maypole dances-> Babbles of prayer ‘gainst the backward wind 

                                                     unconsentually cross-pollinated by these unsensed bees  

                                    -hollowing our logs;                   spinning the gold + Balling the Yarn 

may all your sins be remembered in a nymph-en casket 

                                    -enfossiled, as     the        enfolded pea;         bruising              all-night      long. 

Vie [life]- eternal sleep, death- éveil ultime-> doth jolt thee from th’ sheets… 

                                    ‘soft you now!’ 

                                    brittl-y sparkled along the diamond’s face; 

                                                                                                 Embedded in cement ‘n etched out again, 

                                                                                                 still alive and starved- long dead, still  

                                                                                           looking nothing like she it did when alive 

 

 

                                        A pressed flower 

                                made of flesh and bones . 

 
 
 

Comments


© 2023 by MCLA Spires. 
bottom of page