Tuesday, December 10, 2013

wassailing...



photo by EJR ©


mist by dark
(pieces of music and song, somewhere inside you by now)


I am the white horse
who fell down
the willow slope bank kill
cobblestone lane
bad fencing
I am mending slow
rain seeping cloud slow
I am part tide
part waiting to be born
I am a thought rise
a kept burn 
I am into pain
into feeling joy
into chasing 
my soul’s tail


act one

a skin lick opera
velvet curtains reveal
you said nothing
I followed gravity
instinct and articulation
a single bound ambulation of night

act two

heart to hearth thirst wanting
we pour back in
through the old dusty glass
streetlights glowing warm December
every car quietly waiting
for the daylight again
passengers on the long consumption train
sleep dreaming of what they can
between bombast greeting
mixed message holiday sales pitches

act three

no I don’t believe in that
or even that but love is a sticky companion
tends to muddy and clarify things
enough for me to make my own rituals
between each theft of reason
each passage poem
each time I reach in
for another part of life
beneath its undertows


EJR ©

3 comments:

  1. the 'i am' statements in the opening are cool...i rather like the tides one...and how that plays into reaching into the undertow in the last bit...personally i rather like act three...smiles.

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    Replies
    1. drowning is the crown without ego...chaos flows, into any geometric certainty...a poem that stops you, counting time...can, of course, be a need...

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  2. It is a gamut run, a disparity of emotion and would it not be had Cobblestone Lane been better fenced. It is full of force, powerful. I have re-read it several times and get a different shade each read through. Maybe that's what cycled through as you wrote it.
    Cheers!

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