poem 370 of a poem a day for 2012

 reading the scroll of my noble ruby Damascus

sea port a thousand years ago

sea pines gnarl-ing bark

against the wind

folding time's reach

through sin and

the glory of every tale I tell

of me in huddled masses

bedding down for the night

looking up to the stars

to give ourselves

maps through the black fabric

knifed with their dead light

I call them stars still

their rippled waves and mass elections

of impotency and no appliances

I am not the valance of my defiance

I am raw steel wading through the ecstasy of numb

I am one who wants to feel what taking skin and bone

from word to tome can deliver to rust

I am one who wants to see himself beyond reclamation

I am one who wants to know answers

that end with shrouded silences

I am the wrapped body of what I used to be

I want to be laid with cedar

with amber burning in pots nearby

I am manically depressed

my brain can't handle

what my soul has undressed

so I fail when it comes to being a success

but you reading this may already know that

and give me over to wooden dummy placation

so close my mouth

there are no hands behind the curtain

there are only lies left to find a truth

that wants nothing to be certain

so give me back to the ancient tides

wash my body three times

and burn my memory beyond recognition

you out there who know what joy is

cup me with words

as a poet might say to you

bind me with the chains

that thinning desire brings 

claim me as yours

when the torch of refutation

can validate your parking fee

do not acknowledge anything to do with me

and you will find

that I am lost again

without a body

without a prayer

without food in the cupboard

without clothes that bear me

a style in the seas of conformity

I am without reserve an undone

a wasted wine

a man who has had his time come

and now just wants you

to see him say goodbye

EJR ©