Sunday, November 18, 2018

unknown smoke

I write moonlight when
there’s no moonlight in sight,
speak of the plodding stars
when all above is smoke.
Things aren’t looking too
good for me with the facts.
I claim truth when all I got
is useless, I claim form
when all I do is swing
the idiom. These symbols
before you the sound
your voice makes
in silence. This magic
sounding out the moment,
the meaning there
waiting to be tasted
the way lips imply a kiss,
the story the fire obliges.
at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

the thread

  It’s like any other qualifier, it depends on where the context comes in. Sunny to sunnier, gray to deeper gray. That’s why each sentence t...

  • new moon mantra
    The sky above is blue and blurry with floaters and figments, the cheap cheaters smudged with the devil’s work, the new moon monstrous in its...
  • capitulate
    It’s a blindness that exceeds the eyes, a blank spot that only widens with time. The words go one way, the actions another, the mind makes u...
  • continuity
    It’s the comfort of wasps in the wind chimes, it’s the comfort of children screaming in the street. It’s wedding bells and bacchanals and wo...