July 1, 2012

poem 208 of a poem a day for 2012

leaning into fractured fractal obscene arrangements

down a steep embankment
carrying a couple of pot plants
the loose earth and twigs
and fallen debris from trees
are making the slide scratchy sounds
of my bi-pedaled gravity

seems as if a cliff
is waiting, watching
the joy and despair
of running down the hill
to find a sunny
arm-cradled patch to garden
host my little green nymphs
until harvest time
I could be hallucinating
but that isn’t much different
than my reality these days

I have become a self pariah
with no belief in a messiah
outside the mirror-
mirror-on-the-wall type
of guiding laughter when I fall
so I rest a bit
not seeing what’s past
the edge of oblivion
just outside the Sun
waiting for me to say
I quit

maybe my time
has come
to find the fallen
hallowed grounds
I must have some reason
I keep reaching
for something
I can’t explain

it would be too easy
to just say I was
environmentally caused this way
everyone would expect that easy answer
the easy explanation of chains
but I know better

being born in America
is street gold no matter
where you are in
this capitalist food chain
so while I might not ever
get to know or see or hear
or touch or smell why
I strive to stay alive
despite not feeling
worthy enough
to drink from this cup
I was given
I know to weave from
the unknown music
I steal to feel
I am from the hive
I know the tremble
that is every heart
empty of want enough
to reap what we sow
like the thunder tonight
feeding from the heat
of a long Summer’s day
the rain is a thirsting sound
calling on me to drink
a long lost symphony


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