October 29, 2012

poem 408 of a poem a day for 2012

the wax swirling feasts of Autumn

from the sea
with Oedipus
and Antigone
we are
burning memory
each sharp
glowing stick
is spun in a
brush-stroked anger
the atmosphere
in warm gas billows
is carbon dioxide
heavy breath
deciduous varnish
vanished finishing cycles
swept away
in the rain
tied to a kind
of painful tiding
when leaves scatter
advancing in temporal winds
painting pieces of the fallen sky
all the way inside
the deepening of wombs
we burrow for
further rooting
into the ground
to get high

the ghost echoes
of more please
thin the sounds
that leaves play
woven into
the changeling tapestries
of each season
disappearing like
a hurried alphabet
of footsteps dancing
along a shore lapped
and lashed with large waves
large swells and the tell tale
hearts crashing white noise
at night when walking the beach  
with pockets full of wishes 
and poems to feed the sea

this seems more serene
than dangerous
because of how sound wraps you
so even while my eyes
shut down to the dark
and I color
every birthed skin
in my imagination
you draw me further into
where here might be
inside the roar
of sinning infinities
holding the subtle silks of time
to smooth my obstructions
and cover over
my flimsy foundations

silence and by that
I mean molecular stillness
settles us each
into an absolution
of quiet prayer reaching
to where we might be
candling the wind as well
as drawing circles
and ringing bells
where we might say
come, the table is set
and we have left
the window open
lest you forget
the feel of wind
on your face
while drinking wine
in the cupped heavy
energy fields

cloud busting
the drive
of our hands
upon the wheel
we turn a madness
from megaphones
into directional whispers
we let loose 
our open palms
leaning out
sash thrown windows
calling out to
signet rings 
to seal the instincts
we pour into any moment
that we save
for a rainy day
to break open
when we lose power
over ourselves


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