September 13, 2012

poem 322 of a poem a day for 2012




body in the tides

can’t swim anymore
treading a smile too long
to know how to feel
anything but the please

night low birding the dark
perched beneath
the bleeding boughs
waiting for me
to drown

I am worn thin enough
to disguise myself
in molecular divinities
in wafer communions
in each taste of escape
as music is always playing
always rooting into the smells

truffle nosing the water
I seek what’s trapped in clay
and sand and the rivers
that knife through feeble
through constructed time
I pray
I cry for answers
I dance towards laughter instead
I feed you entertainment
I make you forget
you’re searching too

the vine of my madness
is in the ivy
in the choking brick
and glass fiefdoms
where daily rituals are masks
are theater absurds
are the words
are the mere mentions
the hammer rhythms
the slaughters in slow motion
the plow cutting into motivation
the fight for sloth
the pointed needle art
the store fronts that want you

I want you
even if I never remember
your name outside
the silk dress embroidery
an Asian design
a template meditation
I breathe in
I breathe out
I shout against my sleeve
I hear the music again
the movements of limbs
that sell motion to maps

I am painting those dotted lines
that hide the smell of wanting
of being wanted
so you think in therefores
and what can you be
but the song is another rerun mythology
or cop show and you know
the play acts as a tribunal
on a Sunday nearing noon

the plate says feed me
the collections of coins
pass it and pass gas
eat fast someone might get yours
don’t smile
unless you want to please
this land is a porous solid

the steam covered compass
evens the sands
that are fingered
that are incessantly
borrowed by the oceans
they get angry
with how much we dump
our today into tomorrow

we try to keep current
with sorrow while we try to keep tabs
of how much time we borrow
to stay afloat

ocean side beach resort
wide planks salted patina
I lean in
devour the bits of sugar
and paint the nipples
and smalls of the back
asses waiting in high black heels
wanting as I do
for a more that needs no words

you invite me
your eyes say go further
than the skin allows
tear the fabric
pretending to be clothes
lose yourself
throw the magnets
back to the night sky
point the needle close enough
to know a directional lost again

the streets want more
want your allegiance
you hesitate
you lose sight of gravity
in the crowd
you find nothing worth keeping
that fits in your pocket
you rip your heart out
asking for donations
in a mad stutter
that seems perpetually
near the Dawn
in the dark folds
of secrets being told

EJR ©

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