what We keep, often keeps Us, a kept simple Divine .................... (together we began by chronicling Crone Agnus and Her silly hats)

" I welcome myself to another day here on Earth 

one filled with blowing snow and humankind lacking Love 

be aware, the world needs more wares "

there's no pot o'gold 
at the end of my rainbow 
truth be told and if I may be so bold, 
eye needn't have one to feel 
richly elucidated in reveal 
each odd wobble facet 
courting countenances 
or what lasts or fits 
my mind and body, as gloved ... 

I am a fun house, a heart Loved 
a man, a poem or tome 
my palms are outstretched soul  
my time, fingers grown cold 
bent patience seeking warm wombs 
through the ground sky snow 
my nails reach for dirty Spring 
my hands full of Her hair 
my ears full 
of the sound 
of Her bobby pins 
hitting the floor ... 

I imagine Life with Her Love 
and without it and while 
without can be made topically busy 
and frenzied and often 
with good purposeful intentions 
it is hollow, a version humane-less and needy 
me, a holographic beggar of bones ...

I once imagined 
a great flood coming 
up the Hudson Valley and devastating 
the city of Troy 
I believe now 
this mostly to be metaphorical 
allegorical, rhetorical 
historical revision waiting 
wading my shallows 
my being Faubus with delusions 
my being fabled with illusions 
the accretion-al weight 
of my drives up the mountain 
to the coin-op vistas ...

places to stay 
where We might say 
oh look there's another stork 
coming baby-less, hunting '
amphibians in the mist 
saying limbs like wings 
are often over-rated 
be Humpty Dumpty again 
follow Your Bliss ... 

mama don't let your babies grow to be empaths 
or anything for that matter that doesn't fit neatly attired 
or splattered on the walls of the secrets keeping you 
a tethered taut skin covered tintinnabulum 
a felt covered hammer on a piano 
a sold invigoration for security 
as a Life insurance 
meant to dent 
Your need 
to bleed 
in wonder 
and awe 
every day ... 

we dampen the sharpest parts herd the shards 
and depart for unknown 
when throne be a stump 
or hillside where 
We remember 
in a moment catching us 
unaware, We dared ourselves 
to this, song and dance 
the music is chance 
taken, inhale 
and exhale 
reaped repeated ... 

(all the ants and hoppers begin to sing)

"broken eggs and scrambled lemonade"

EJR ©