I don't write, I paint myself blind with words...diogenes herded...ignorance...gilded cages...filling up on beauty unleashed...free will's maddening fractures...eyes that need to smell to see...
February 15, 2012
poem 46 of a poem a day for 2012
counting a bone Moon's flowers
she lingers
inside me
with a soft carve
of each breath
she steam-reaches
my mirrored soul
in this
the oddly
warm Winter
she could be
part of the weather
some daydreamt
silt in the fingered
deltas of taken chances
kiting the wind for folly
time here erodes
most barriers and
they all give way
eventually,anyway
I bleed release
in every exhale
I can be
when love is
more than
chemical electricity
more than
connecting
to the weave
of her potent limbs
and the geometries
of her entrances
pleasure fills
the temple
of my dreams
of her
especially
when Persephone
serves her wine
in the wane
of Winter
I know
what she blooms
inside me
is no longer
sleeping
EJR (c)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hello there ...