April 10, 2017

matching accessories for what warm April evening is wearing ................................... NaPoWriMo2017 #10

black velvet traipsed over dark rural roads 
a storm is coming, you can feel it 
tingle skinning the air o'er unfurling grasses 
and eager trees in blooming reaches 
electric fingers, light bearers 
saying every Spring, Tesla knew 
what we do, how about you 
well, few think through 
what is timeline jumping 
loophole acrobatics as well as 
those fuzzy mullein lambs' ears 
I am so fond of collecting in the morning 
after night finishes dancing between clouds 
and dead light stardust falling fast past me 
inside echoes of things left unsaid ...

we were eyes once, sight alone 
but noses knew how to grow memories 
into actuation and Love's door 
so we moved, danced like fools again 
for sorrow and sin eating 
for tomorrow and feeding 
the children, wonder 
and awe, apples 
seeding all we saw 

you, as contestant, are sold 
our world ending as destructive 
but the cloaks of womb magic 
as well as newborns and the rebirth-ed 
need the Earth a-peeling 
every once in awhile 

and I climbed the vines 
what tine-d expression 
of explanation might have been 
had we all grown up in Love 
with dictionaries 
and their pronunciation 

strangely languid, angels rode thunder bells 
they wore factorial steeped blithe tea 
as this night Spring sky weep-ed with me 
one by one, two by two each algorithm 
an odd paired sock, a fitted woo ... 

and now I must admit 
when in grade school 
I huffed glue a time or two
 but it didn't grow into a habit 
I had dreamed 
of what nuns wore 
knowing souls had holes 
so I switched to free base 
to cover the holes in my soul 
where pain got in 
and watched Life slip away 
Chiron-ed in long goodbyes
but Hope has a way 
of quietly pocketing day 
secret bread to break 
with dawn and aurora 
as they are want us to do 
the waving crones 
with wrapped water hair 
are wearing white 
and the mushrooms knew 
to dance in the footprints 
they leave behind 
buckle buckle wrinkle 
in time laced paces 
and places we keep the shoes 
for just such an occasion



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    1. I often go back and forth between do I want to do and what want is I, to do with do I really want to want when need bleeds so often, thrown in ... perhaps when I leave this body as an old wise man ... the worms will rejoice in song and poem ... thank you for commenting on the water line ... 'tis my favorite in the piece ...

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