April 24, 2016

writing in womb water moonlight ..............................................................................#NaPoWriMo2016



 (post embolism)

in any periodic intercalation 
of days, one recalls  
there is only death 
when it comes to 
unleashing what 
you want to consume
it is well after midnight 
I am drunk in the glow
the witch in me says I may have been 
a young Vietnamese girl once I think 
Joe Jackson is playing the soundtrack 
to my life..."you can't get what you want, til you know..."

all the bridges are compromises here ...

I can still feed bullet wounds to my dreams 
soft stain pencil#2 black composition notebook where 
I'll often go and lose my mind 
have U poem-ed like this before 
or do you paint doors 
onto windows to slow 
everything down 
training your brain 
learning to breathe 
mountain to rain 
back again 

I am smearing my shirt 
with greasy fingers as part 
of programming night 
in voice over spirit :

do you tine your something(s) 
to work or to be sustenance 
will you fill out forms 
leery of bones without souls 
and souls without bones 
does your tone wander 
and in it, can you find a squandering 
of chances disguised 
as stage four something 
or another 

eye stay tuned to
half stepping my awake watching 
listening for or catching the scent 
of the doze-n or so permitted words 
to be the latest disease 
I have convinced myself 
I now already have 
besides last line tight is


EJR ©

4 comments:

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    1. (snippet-ee-crickets in the strings)

      ... starlight tippling
      dust : in aggregate masses
      thus conducting gravity
      maestro of backyards
      when quiet moments
      are stolen into
      witch to witch
      wonder to wonder
      woman of this world is
      conducting endless electric
      crackling music just beyond
      the beauty of trees ...

      all birds
      be they magpie
      or mock
      know to listen
      to the certainties
      in the sway(s) while
      tombstone-d pinching
      the dark ...

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    3. there goes a sister
      who knows the value
      of blistering their soul
      with expression ...

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