You are my pink-forever basin
languor to my punctuation
Fill? You only have to look.
My buckled mountain rose
to clasp your lake.

Now I pin you, crouched
beneath my spider-frame
pale limbs wed to my ribbed
canopy.

You are my twice-recovered garden
beneath the stare-gray hull,
my homeward stain.

Giddy with mutiny
I shower upon you nightly,
my dirty little circumvent.
Lost, we offer fitful prayers
towards His turning shadow.
Obsession warms the rite
of open window.
We swelter in the cool
of his distraction

I knew I’d find you pinned
and naked just above the rift
of His partitioning

My Damascus is a video-poem by Norman Ball.

The author has written an introduction to the “nascent form” form of the “video-poem”, quoted below.

Now for a brief word on the mechanics of video-poetry: As I applied this poem to video, I found it becoming less and less a traditional poem. That is, I edited it quite a bit from its original poetic structure, finding the need for it to become more tactile –more a lyric than a poem, each line a compartmentalized self-sustainment. After all the reader can’t ‘pore over’ a video as he would a written poem. For one thing, it’s moving, like time itself, from past to present to future. Immediacy, an irrevocable element of the form, obliges a surface or tactile relevancy which, I would hasten to add, need not be superficial. Deeply ruminative images simply do not befit a video presentation’s penchant for movement.