December 20, 2012

poem 459 of a poem a day for 2012

art by Cesar Moro ©

air mail forgiveness and other follicle poet dangers of disappearing

a kingdom of wings are moving
the choir guns for hire
they leaf through the trees
cycling knees to palms down
kissing the ground
because the sky's too high
of a limit for pent up desire
we've just landed safely again
in some one's pulp fiction arms
they say passports please
and remember the customs
of the land when you disembark
the disembodied voice chimes
in through the intercom
to pick up as many pieces
of yourself, as you can

I remember nothing
rummaging through the things
I've scattered from then to now
poems here, laughter there
silly phrases and angry words
when I dared to let my guard down
I no longer trust anyone
especially myself
so most days
I keep my head bowed
and I look for remnant stardust
in the grass
to explain to me
what has happened
like a newspaper
of insanity and time
an intertwined loosened gaze
of my eyes squinting enough
to drop letters through the slot
to catch hold of meaning
even if it is the fleeting fleecing
of my dreams with my morality stuck
holding everything past due

I say to the white robed
god of this land
you can jail me
hold me
indefinitely
allow me to rot
as if I were not meant
to be spot on
marked for good

I wonder what that means anyway
as I amble down the jet-way
wanting to slip through to somewhere
the quiet cannot hold me accountable
for I am not wanting to go on
being out of sync with the rest
of this holy frenzy
masquerading as humanity
adhering myself like a stuck picture
of construction paper
where we once made
silhouetted portraits
on staged mechanics
little outlines
of what we wanted to be
when we grew up

because I still hope
no one can see me
that no none knows
I still keep my shirt on
something besides assignment
or two dimensions
biding my time
waiting for the glue to dry

EJR ©

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