Poetry and poësie

Der Schrei der Natur – Edvard Munch

The bladed poet

I probe
with the blade of my mind,
pry a reddish rock
from another –
a scorpion emerges,
waving a poisonous finger.

I do not enjoy
being insulted
and move off.

I cut into the bark
of a cotinifolia tree.
The blade slides down easily
but it is hard
to cut across the fibres.
The cambium
glistens moistly,
the open gums of Munch screaming.

I plunge the blade
into the soil,
passing the daily activities
of hundreds of thousands
small entities.

Nobody bats an eye.

The bacterium takes a last small slurp
of nutrients
and then continues with its business.
What can be more important
than to divide and rule?