May 24, 2012

poem 166 of a poem a day for 2012

my eternal struggle for a throne

milky tent weave May
with its leaves at full sail
and its myriad limbs availed to wind
holding signs in every crawl vine of desire
what is it about late Spring and this slow fire
that leans me to sing sorrow
in each burrow of anticipation
is it that Summer is soon upon me
as the Oak King gathers strength
to burn bright the wane of seed-gained portals
is the coronation the ornate filling of every body
I seek for pleasure, treasuring every spirit held
as if a whisper or a quiet smile in the near dark

3 am and the birds begin
every sin I have laid with 
can now dig into me
and find me here waiting
watching, matches in hand
for their songs know 
I am more acorn than man
more danger than nurture
with each fistful of dreamed about hair
and every Goddess who dares me to go
outside being chained to my past regard
full of raining glass and the borrowed
tomorrows I sacrifice so that they are
born blind too into my
grubbed mouth feasting for more
I am just another beast
with slow wings and
a heart full of fear
even in the bouquet and
the caterpillar arrays
and spider-webbing of rhyme
I sometimes refuse to admit myself
to where I can be divine
to where I can give up my shadows
just to shine
just to be
just me


1 comment:

  1. "holding signs in every crawl vine of desire"
    There really are many lines here that I love, it would be a long list.
    Great poem...