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

greatness  

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

EJR ©