February 20, 2017

taking ovation : buttress, bowsprit and blade

the poem is the voice 
it is the instrumentation 
the notes, floats 
of propelled forefront-ed 
nascent binding(s) ...

humanity is 
two dimensional stage craft 
poems gives ambiguous line-less 
character to color outside 
to inside of us 

have you candy in your pocket 
Yes you do, She smiles, knowing it's true 
pied stitcher might witch Her 
and away this vignette-ification goes 
grows pretense, patterns stains 
though towed company lines 
state clearly, there is  
a directed intelligence 
a spirit vessel 
a stored, storied us ...

the audience needs 
no board or three panels be 
they are what  
the eyes want 
nose knows 
they grow fond 
discovery sweets
tonic journey 
bitter poems 
to the fine 
stilled parts, distilled hearts 

thus ...

<most poems need a three faces of Eve>

<Lilith bloods a piece of silk, says retrieve>

the past is pop 
when first lens-ing 
its stored flavor 
it fizzes, whizzes by 
reaches high gas spry 
but as all things will do 
eventually, the kite burns 
and that captured moment 
falls flat, ash and dried posies ...

my funny valentine plies plays plumes 
feathery chaos hero questing leaden marrow for bones 
those pauper rich soul holes where the rain got in 
and I hear the jazz half notes, rote(s), jumping points 
from leap pier fog, you dream in fingers, I dream in dreams 
what magic, like fungal under-lords, 
carpet slow advances then retreats ...

we've grown, groaned against beat fantasies 
our oh so human intermittent kneed needs kneaded 
particulate sand-grain seed selves 
we've crowned shelves, cobbler-ed 
most somewhere(s) & between(s), what 
the wind makes, & each take of time, when 
toe holding the letting go(s), why 
riding infinity means 
as many hello(s) 
as goodbyes 
wise is 
this way 
you dig 

warm bread 
and sometimes ...


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