February 25, 2013

night time's trebbiolo vines...

photo by Ed Hebert ©

Isis and the drunken esophagus

with a musical interlude
I am trawling thoughts
trying to catch my soul
in ambergris with nets
of surgical steel
embalming tools
I am palming the walls
printing tickets to despair
one act playing
alms for the poor
arms out for more

I am full hands tied
ancient stones
hole carved eyes
a perspective
relentlessly shaped
by water
eons inside DNA
drilled graves
in the rain
every moment
of my life
caught between
this, that
and every
other distraction

tonight is a
falsetto dagger
wind and strings
stretching silver shadows
over a whisper coat of snow
this is the last oracle
of Winter
it is waiting
to be asked
an immutable

this Moon is
cast metal
possibility is
skin for pain
glass frame views

from here, more
than empty
is just renewal

this Moon
makes me
why music
for Dawn

wading through
a dark thirst
my humanity
wants to throw
broken eggshells
back to the garden


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