the crumble wall of my Jericho
clear sky wide
April swing genitals
long armed trees
bleed distilled frenzy
in cyclical symphonies
this is Spring
from the bird trills
to the flower trumpets
that herald Persephone’s return to Demeter
children garden intention
without mention of need
their eyes are drummed alive with fire
with everything grown to fall
the bloom of another tree next door
ruddy wave dark little fingers of wind
remind time to sin with each carve
each piece of my erode
the odes of moan scatter languages
understands silence is
the sharpest blade of madness
this doesn’t fit me
give it time to unravel
I hear voiced further inside
the outside looking in
this doesn’t fit the connive
the hive placement of reason
treasonous love says swim
until you tire and drown
in your own excesses
or starve yourself
into the thin of disappearing
in a crowd because you refuse
to eat anything else
no
I used to see eye to eye
with my own salvation
joining the cavalry
or some other horsemen
of the latest apocalypse
though they run the same ending show
climactic resolve and never answered why
bright lights only pretend to sing
these sounds never play the rests
where my quiet soul is worn
as another scarlet letter on my chest
I am not
super
I am
superfluous
I am not
super human
I am
super redundant
the pundit is
a gambit that bites back
my wounds have never healed
without a muscular scar bramble
in the underground
of my gentle in-patient dreams
bent metals will
beat mental wills
civilized trash
composite masonry
we used to be buildings
mud and straw
old glass bottles between
let the light in curved
seen with the slow down
that color gives the eyes
you can blind yourself to pain
as I have though like me
you risk falling eternally
in love with yourself
just on the jagged
cut edge of being
with no cups
to catch soul sown
to gravity with
elation and lament
inside every clock
I am willing
to tell time with
there is a comfort
that is never a bad thing
and the stillness of mattering to myself
in the spattering of seeded desire
waiting for the rain
early evening
calls to June in stabbed Sun
through the big picture windows of the restaurant
I am lingering in my thoughts of being alone
solitude shadowing the doorway
guillotining the pull down of stars into night
I cover my eyes with yes and smile again
spare change
like new clothes
jangling in wander harmonies
I am the journeyman fool
begging harlequins to pull
my trolley back to school
where another day is just another class
another pass, another shave closer
to my core wanting the promise of more
tomorrow, instead of my past
wanting more time as a wall
instead of falling down
pockets full of ashes
and laughter
smudged on the faces
I wear crawling
like vines do
where the brick
and mortar
used to be married
to order
neat and tidy
as easy to find
a home for
EJR ©
poem 128 of a poem a day for 2012 (NaPoWriMo16)
http://theblindlantern.blogspot.com/2012/04/poem-128-of-poem-day-for-2012.html
