October 17, 2012

poem 388 of a poem a day for 2012

on a swell with my shoulder perched homunculus
(if I met my apathetic Frankenstein, what would our conversation be like)

prospecting for a reflection of love
gilding the sluice panned parts of gold
you’re born with never leaves you
when you address the mirror
you are giving it fingers and hands
to sand every coffin shape
and size you deny yourself
when the wanting is left unattended
in the tidal wave of a simple embrace
of understanding and grace

so you develop the arcane poetic language
that your soul’s diaspora reaches with
to sew back time onto the stars at night
it’s participles standing in the shadows
of every color given up for gray area sunshine
so that you may paint simple as surreal as you can


a disembodied voice screams
is nothing, so let go of it
it is a petulant shine
carry as little of its material as possible
as you never know when the next supernova
might sling itself around these parts
and we start all over again
amino acids water oxygen
and a few friends

another voice
slightly hidden
in the cackling din
of Winter’s approach
says, there can be no other way
even squirrels forget
what they have buried
for the future
time and again

we border with ourselves with broken algebra
and the repetitions of its ridiculous claims
of fitting in like the loose footing of a virgin surfer
finding the undertow for the first time
and just then they realize as they pray for more time
just how potent an ocean is and how small we are
when our bare feet try to bear each stepped weight of uncertainty
guiding mechanisms like blind leaps and faithless trudging
are the mud and oil slick messes
modernity says is new and improved
the combustion sway of industrialized lies breathing in
the collapsible parts of our humanity
speeding swords into the ground
while folding the tent
pulling up the stakes
and driving everything
into the hearts
we used to have


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