August 17, 2012

poem 273 of a poem a day for 2012





listening in the reeds to the funeral parade of America

slow whisper time
some may say it’s gravity
spun into tides
wobble fantasy and
the jaunty mechanics
of carnival rides
but I just keep walking
down the street
gutter fantasy at my feet
stop to stare
at the sewer grate
tennis ball, bottle caps
and small coins

it is getting harder
and harder to make eye contact
with the living dead
that passes itself off
as citizens, like the long tongues
of the aardvark
these cities’ denizens scream
for Summer to be over
so that there is no reason
to be outside their
chem-trail fairy tales
and the rise of hidden cancers
like soulless cellular breakdown
pop culture calls them zombies
but we know when humanity
is bleeding from living corpses
when we see them
their end-trail philosophies
wielded as an ax
of compartmentalization
and the beauty of raw soul
like the Snow Princess
and the drops of blood
on the white embroidery
blinding jealousy binding
as if whirring rust and grease
are the symphonies of 
a kept still constancy

here 
in this great torched 
land of liberty
this burning 
admission of freedom
the great Mother 
has been replaced
by taut skin
and fear filled 
televised salt-dried rinds
that wants you never looking
beyond the curtained reason 
you've been sold
that gold covered life 
insured to the glory
of somewhere else
not here

here 
you keep quiet for Heaven
and keep waiting
as a ripened salvation
you can cling to
and cover yourself with
when you die

all this material
is hollowness as bliss
we find ourselves
too late sometimes
when we are drying ourselves
so as not to make a mess
but I break the glass parts
of my remaining awe
and wonder anyways
to cut myself 
to taste my life bleeding
and to say no thank you
and to keep walking towards
any woods I can
listening ever listening
for Pan’s pipes
and the sweet chortle
of the nymphs
in the grotto
because there is no other place
for my limbless insanity
to go to fly and swim
and be inside myself
as the future only wishes
while right now still listens

EJR ©

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