beyond recognition...

photo by Edward Rinaldi ©

why I write ( a hermetic tune )

is it because it fends off

the incessant noise that howls

electricity at the moonless skies

piercing each trampled step of time

singing calendars, another day, another night

what have I carried in my bones

to gnaw on, hungry for hope

what sinew have I chewed

what skins have I burned to keep warm

what kind of cold knows

I know what lonely is

oh, tomorrow my faithless muse

you come wearing the same ugly mask

see what you can see you say

be aware the tides comes early today

am I willing to take stock of my sighs

my burrows, my cling to the past

the felt dimensions

each a vision fibered

with certainty colored

twined to lies

the rope

the hangman

the strange fruit

the cries

oh tomorrow my faithless muse

what ink have I left to bleed today

what cause to banner have you left for me

what vane webs shall I pine to our little yellow star

what carved rock images do you seek in these poems

what filter lights would you have me wash my dreams with

oh tomorrow my faithless muse

what have you left for me to tremble with

what angle to my fingers do you want bent

what lever crooked sounds, do I hammer onto string

what connects me to the windows full of morning

what have you left for me to bandage outside the rasp of beauty

oh tomorrow my faithless muse

are you still waiting to hear why it is I write

why I insist at keeping my death at bay

why, when looked upon, I am

another page painting pictures

another day following the paths of Dawn

another way I am these words

another place you know, that is, where I belong

EJR ©