Your Cart

Goo and Mud and Fire | Poetry

The Color of Creation: Photography by KJH Cardinalis

Gravity kisses love,

left kisses right,

consciousness is born.

Goo and mud and fire.

Water condenses from foggy peace,

rains down as rest. The soup is stirred by

the urge to know itself. The lusty space

between anxious photons and slothful dust

sighs, exasperated.


The universe is a fractal!

It doesn’t surprise me, really.

Complexity doesn’t frighten me as much as

refresh the spring of hope within—

the same one that finds the hammer of time

the least interesting cousin. He’s been given the estate,

it seems, but only if you squeeze vacuum’s fruit dry

and leave the blood-dry husk for the gripping frost of Lord Chaos.

I’m told I should fear him. Maybe I do.

But I am goo and mud and fire.

Looking back and looking forward:

I can talk to the stars, and they can talk back.


From Fractalverse: Volume One


Previous poem

Next poem


Photography: The Color of Creation by KJH Cardinalis