January 23, 2012

poem 23 of a poem a day for 2012





 taking form in a digital sea,we cry to feel our feet


jumping to the places we go,
leaped gaits,reaped gates
slalom a dance,follow them chances
when you can,lightning in a bottle
is a myth outside the observer
outside the places 
where time clocks in
and you feel 
each ticking beat
with tied kept feet
the binds of surrender 
only cripple the faith of
those who never believe
while a lucky few,and
element gatherers too
can watch old type-setters 
 dancing for ghosts
on modern cobblestone
in a black and white 
bleed the color in world
their vintage old is 
our new pretend
to sparkle the bare 
and render the light,
send its signal 
as far as we can 
see at night

the Earth is
a spinning rock 
that carries 
water home
like we do 
when we write 
to open our hearts
and close our eyes
we carry letters in tides
in our passage poems
chanted filamented whispers
above the waves,strewn
in the littered remains 
that memories crawl-comb
stories back to the sand with
waiting on the gravity 
of our whirring parts to stop
at the feel of warm rain again  
when the exhales of each sound
becomes straight lines,swirls and bends
tell us to tine this period,to punctuate a mark 
where fingernails have clawed 
and climbed into another body's begin

EJR (c)

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