Poetry In Time
The first image we perceive of ourselves is that of the child in which our mother sees.
For much of our young life, we are who we believe others believe us to be, the version we see reflected back by our friends, then our lovers - and our enemies. {Inspired by Carlo Rovelli’s “The Order of Time”}
When we open our aperture to the expanse of time and the vast web of human experience and existence,
what whispering words,
from within or throughout,
beg to come tumbling through us?
The Hangman’s Chrysalis
Rights spring forth in new attachment
Charisma garners ghost-ing descendants, prostrate to the ruling class
Our engagement:
These wet lips
In licking January steel
We:
binding
-are skin belted lovers
Chastity wrapped sticking tongues
holding tight the noose for the riderless horse
(dogwood, or twisted jasper pine)
Giant
the first of Montana passages:
Totems sharping palacial sky.
Pieces of chinook procuring in glacial incisions, the newest of these foreskins
-Formations in entitlement
Yes:
I remember its reluctance to leave Wet in straining chrysalis
Butterfly-ing-ness-less
Hostage is the capsule
Then.
The first of these words is
-Spoken
Harvest.
Collector of false buds
unwintering
Casting in
our last contentment’s rye.
(contessa)
In morning light did consecrate
for this in lilting fragrance slain
Those most take in this cup her lips,
the mouth in all
Contains
Down comes the button linen-ed chalice
Foreign the talons height
Thirst blood ignite the chosen few
By slight to morsel slight
Crow
The tumbleance of crows
Meters out
In chasing slipstream
Carries the blackest light
To our forming eye
Stooping
And only one contrives
The nature of its yearning
Birth from the
Consecrated
Hapless
Totality is used
And used up
More than this universe forgives it
Energy in use is conservation
Feathered
Born
Entering these forms
Gnawing back as they were
Noting the most understanding
Platitude
In reference to its form
We gather ourselves
and split
Silent
Mirrored in the silence of a form
Knock-kneed Marie
On top on top
A mountain speaks
Out stretching iridescent disc
In saber edge horned filigree
In portion outstripped
decree
Does...
Innocent wing
the better chested
When pride is swallowed
o’re the gate
For itinerant farmers cast and sew in gossamer saplings hallowed tow
a mark to which
Bestow or not
that which to heaven bows
And thus...
By fingering finger so and
so
From on old Friar’s briar bent ,
And kisses hung knock-kneed Marie
There hangs the life for me,
and from the briar spoke dialect
of Mar, Artemisa
So
And kisses hung knock-kneed Marie
There hangs the life for me
the countenance.
The countenance of trinity
In whole part does she lie
In bearing mirror binding trace
Of morsel-crumb and spy
Lest all that licks and laps beguile
Hang slaughterhouse to sire
That best us all
The bastion won
To intrigue born the liar
If love be lit
To pressing hold
The stillborn giants glancing blow
makes no more than its host
Forgives
this self same hoist to Prost
For is this field
Through moon lit eves
A trapping fur trade’s iron teeth.
To cast us not into temptation
The dying prophet told
In thrust press line
that does protect
tripartite origami’s
fold
The sacking of Salona
he followed this,
a Slavic dream
Its gravity bent
to time relenting
with oil blood in consort spent
communion cupped antecedents recant
And o’re they say
Repent! Repent!
what gains us through
gullwinged intent,
that in last gasp,
existence proved.
And from his cell
With kisses made
through bars and chains and majesty
The bridewell ...
How it holds the heart
in absence moored
a lovers tell
Of
memory..
is tower built?
With stones removed
and mason’s vow.
Let no one in our absence summon
lest mortarless
cast all asunder
Might champions our
own ownerless grace,
and whole his breath
comes from all gasping...
the call of Romans nor solemn trace
our yoking harness begs coal ore blacking.
once shed ...
the smoke
births castled bird
released from stony edges there
gossip-winged
our courtship cadenced
Tumult finds those most
in asking
Quick the impulse
Dawn! the hare...
and thicket caresses haunting most
When dampness bless the hearted fair
finds quiet footpaths
Our halting dress
for fingerless marksman in kind possess
Their finest lashing hath
Unleashed past nocking
mourning tressed
Unbridled first born hamstrung tongues
Lavish late countess largesse
Lost beckon call
knight his
abandon
Starlight Cigarettes
Today is -a- day
To
lay [with-in] the bed
To
capture raindrops and caress them like tears
To
roll over, make love to you again
then look back
past the window
To
gaze upon lighted imaginary cigarettes
in the mouths of us
-starlet reflections-
and—
at the last…
walk
wet-footed
through moss covered worlds of our own fevered vanishing