The Mystery of Blue
Do you remember how to distinguish between
cerulean and azure? One of these must clearly
describe the color of light reflecting from a tall
glass building on a sunny day — cloudless, perhaps,
or at least with only a scattering of fattened,
drifting cumulus cotton balls, pregnant with the
possibility of rain, heavy with their mass of vapor.
A lowering sky, balanced between the city and the
heavens. And as you stand, somewhere between
the shadows of those clouds, and the shadow
cast by the towering walls of glass, you begin, at
last, to understand the depths and mystery of blue.
The Reinvention of Language
The time of silence was ended with the crashing sound
of shattering glass. We thought that we had forgotten how
to speak, our tongues apparently stitched in place, unmoving.
But now, the babble is unleashed. A rising tide, an echoing
of nonsense sounds, of meaningless syllables that approximate
the words of anger and dismay, of primitive communications.
Soon, all this will settle, and from this swirling morass of savagery
a new language will emerge. Once again we will be able to
discuss, to argue, to lecture; on art, or science, or even poetry.
About the Author
PAUL ILECHKO was born in England but has lived in the U.S. for the majority of his life. He currently lives in Lambertville, NJ with his girlfriend and a cat. Paul has had poetry published recently by Dash Literary Journal, Gravel Magazine, Full of Crow, MockingHeart Review and Slag Review, among others.