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| 'poet tri-self reflection' Edward Rinaldi |
life isn't just a series of things we check off a list
it is this ongoing bliss, a not to be missed ever-present en-tropic-al you
what wishes and wants sometimes will do
to pick your hearts and locks so many times
as to leave you thoroughly unguarded
pinnacle-d then pummeled to flight
as the only poem left
before dying has wings
and need too
to be home
no matter
who or
where
you are
today ...
a jaundiced liberty took her shift in the back to bowling alley
where I fashioned a crack pipe with my weekly paycheck
into a don't bother me for a few hours
and a Yahtzee sized pair of leave me alone now
Imma leaning
back doing the rock-a-way...
lean back lean back lean back ...
" cuz if you're friends don't dance..."
how to smell yourself in the morning
if you're me then it is slowly
and with a clothes pin
if you're me, you dream
rather indecently
don't you ...
this is echo cardiogram response mechanism charlie zero part
it is grave lunar navigable
what read-a poem said
thumb dumbly is plumb bobbed toed
salvation army drum-ette
did i get crispy enough to aid and abet
your maybe something good
or maybe something bad
is this sunday school over yet
cause that new girl
in bible study is kinda hot
but we gotta go to uncle hial
and aunt mary's house
and i'm not sure there's enough
saccharin tablets and chock full of nuts
to go around so i'll rifle jackets
and go to lemmings as soon as I can ...
yeah I like this, and i even wrote
a tenner four and teen rhyme tine
couplets as magic eyed response to it
that someday i'll get back to
as i'm not sure what animal i'll be
when i do grow up though any hows
thanks for the cheer and pointillist mark
on this map of right
the fuck now
fuck now
now fuck this ordinance with boxes and metal hinge ware
make everything smell like cinnamon rolls after detonation
carry breath mints
and wine
and anything you can
from then.........................................
..................................................
........................................................................
..................................................................
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and now and now and now
every now ever stated to
a when that is in the past too ...
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hope may be a whore we try persuading into poured ends
empty pocket jangle turned swerve sung feed me see more friends
between my nerves fed raw tantamount-ed slay wonderful(s)
& spilled parted ax to herringbone splatter sundry lulls
there are holes in bouncy bounce continent eating children's
rogue pantaloons role play maternal milk farmed will whence
and yes sometimes our osmosis is as gentle as dew
and no sometimes it is every tornado gone through
and you demand to wear all my poems, toes, paint-pierced skin
and I am the one left stabbing stand killing beast within
-------------------------------------
curious ore
I only care
how someone else
any one else
receives love
when giving it away
I find myself
with endless need
in an endless pool
kneading strength
and raining pains
there's a toll house
in every town
isn't there
bells dong
hanged, stilled
then aroused
on every hour
time emit sassy us
one moment
the next
when are you
what you want
to be and where
do you wear
your barest best parts
to my ugly ball ...
sleeping however
is not an answer
though a necessary
component of sound
and the lathed quiet
of thought
and purpose
so give me
a sewing needle
and why
must you know
how to complete
the loner
in me
is it fabric
sensitivity
or the silk
you sold me
for the soul
poem-ed in
embroidery
EJR ©
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