life is trying cinema : theater borrowing against myself ................ beyond my means

the early autumn harbinger(s) 
were songs, birds 
what we were 
beyond monotheism 
a boundary less world 
an ever hungry tomorrow 
an even thirstier future 
after that, 
that most 
melodies know   
will come 
too soon 
for some ...

Yes, I am human 
and as such 
I consider 
I am a virus 
a self gratifyingly 
ignorant blight 
and mitosis ...

I am disguised sometimes 
as blind faith 
as faceless wisdom 
as the places 
I've imagined 
needing, knowing ...

I demand a memory 
grabbing hold of some thing
what I have told myself of 
was important enough 
to never let go of ...

we are all 
full of fuckeries 
and every sort 
of what not 
we are mythologies 
a mycology of excuses 
under the damp pantheons 
of relations 
we reclaim 
and reclaim 
and so on 
and so forth 
ad nauseam 
no umbrella 
walking home 
poem-ed rain ...

you hear 
tiny brine 
voices 
that whisper 
to the dew 

I am pop up ads 
I am want to know 
I am what you want 
based on your searches 
off line down low-ism 
is the new stealth 
gardening of ideas 
wild sides 
of the road 
chance 
is more certain now, here ...
hate is glorified 
beautiful things painted 
glory fie is hate 
sold and packaged 
value exchange 
metered meaning 
as calendrical 
wet clay 
and vignettes 
so as not to seem 
so uncivilized 
and hasty 
when reclaiming 
this soul 
as mine ...

---------------------

there was this movie 
at the end of the poem 
this poem down an alley 
secreted away past midnight 
in my mind where 
there still are 
places to hide 
how, where 
and why 
I was born ... 

endless clicking circular devotion 
the ocean breathing blue in 
like daughters on the wind 
between trees and seed knives 
and the spies of the netherworld  
that cling to what you let go of
to survive and even thrive elegantly 
when you're mad and alone 
and you can feel your soul 
inside all your bones 
with ache and pride 
in the right ride tithe 
of rain 
you hear a director 
inside you, say 
roll credits 
you squint until 
you've eased yourself in 
shadows curtain billow and unfurl 
and the cull fertile 
dark we pray to 
when we surrender 
to any desire 
beyond words 

dominion ascension 
ascent a scent descends 
decent, a sent sentinel 

belled lens tolled 
Wednesday sacred loom 
on Fridays meant 
you were to be 
the best fool 
in whatever womb 
you ride out 
your current life's 
bad weather in ...


EJR ©