Raindrop

Had some other things to do today, so I took a poem I had done a long, long while back and remixed it so to speak, changing a few words, structuring it a little and adding in a bit of projective verse.  Am working on some new pieces as well, and am planning on getting around to catch up on all the sites I've been not able to visit the past few days.  Anyhow.

Rain keeps dropping

at my feet,

feet,

feet

I look up

To the grey cloaked sky

and watch the drops fall

and watch the drops fall d

                                             o

                                                      w

                                                               n

The grass fills

Its thirst is quenched

The water pools on the pavement

Into cracks

it seeps

seeps

seeps

I hear the sounds

From below

So down stairs I do go

Flip on the lights

Flip that switch

And watch

As all things stored

Are    f        l        o       a       t        I        n       g by

I’m soon joined

By a concerned pair

Of eyes

No purring

As he meows

As his bathroom dr If ts slowly by

I put on my coat

And head on out

To the car I will go

But first

Raindrops

Keep f       

         A

         L

         L

         I

         N

         G at my feet

                           Feet

                                    feet                 

Musicality

Polyphony

Survived—

A testament to

Counterpoint

The Tie or bind

Two as one

Jumping to-

The portamento mark eclipse

Coupuring

All the jagged stops and starts

Progression

In homophony—

Quodlibets,

Impossible to play apart

Most precious slur

Curving arc

Legato lives;

Staccatissimo falls apart  

Pennillions familiar song

Uniquely departing form

Extemporization

In Dulci Jubilo;

Perhaps the intonation here,

Was not clear as clear can be,

Yet

In such a method

Intonation appeared

In lyric’s unrehearsed symphony

The Coda

The song of the swan

Graceful yet—

Malinconia’s Sturm und Drang

Frosts wings unflown,

Sul Ponticello (On the Bridge)

Strigendo’s squeezing every inch

Durchkomponiert indeed

For all the complexity

For each the Stimmung tuned

It is bound to be

 Symphoneta ceases polyphonic mastery

In Finale, yet again

I must explain, oft skated

 Frozen ice. (Attaco subito)

Cracks downy sides

Unfurling feathered flight

As disparity drowns,

In Sul Tasto’s warming glove

And we then Know:

“Sumer is Icumen In”

Dream of Valkyrie

If a Valkyrie would come for me,

I’d be in the trance of one million voices,

Wondering what I had done

To anoint this soul

Nonesuch less

The moniker of hero

Drifted mix

Amassing touch

Fortifying all inside

The frigid, frozen

Shameful scowl

         Yet

Within the agony

Within the pain

Exists, still

A semblance of principle

Au revoir

As pillow catches head

The fall is not as bad this night

A Glossary of...

A glossary of introspection requests my attention—

Undivided

Unilateral

Gnomic

Lore

Written

In tongues

I left the cipher to

Buried deep

In dreams of youthful

Exuberance

Words form walls

Phrases, Jails

Commas splice

Away the night

Forming a path

An escape

From this

Melodramatic

Metonymy

Veal

Fractured, little lamb
Splint still slipping
Yet all vocality has been shut down

Having watched your child
Harvested in such a manner
And being powerless to render any semblance of support
BAA
Sheepish remark

And so, grazing the fields
ne'er felt the same
As only eyes could affix
to barbs and those
crabapple bearing trees
amidst the alternating greenish hues beneath

And the farmers dog, black and white stubby tailed creature that it is, prances the prairie in tormenting tease as the ferry noise infiltrates the serenity the sheep here keep

All was fine
All was the way it always had been
Ignorance, the pond-elixir to the damnably stupid

All was even
As the odds ever were
Yet
Those businessmen
polishing their gold canes and shiny wheels a riding

Somewhere in that ballast
Understanding came to me
where I learned the value of a friend
A child
A mate
Where I learned was not meant for mutilation
yet always it comes to that, always right?

Knowledge damaged everything
And so,
Tonight,
When the yard is empty
and the cows have all been fed
I shall slink past the owl--
and into the barbs I shall go--
entangling
Entangled till
All segments of intelligence
will have been stifled too

It's tuesday once again and my friend Brian Miller is tending the bar over at D'Verse for tonight's edition of Open Link Night.  Stop on by, have a few pints of verse and offer one of your own( look at it like it's a tip).

The Ravaging of the Caravan

I awoke to a single calm

I bled fast until the ring was gone

Traffic patterns

Of triumvirate’s wail

In pastel, my inner river floods—

To harmonize the many hours spent,

Amidst enchantment’s bell

Caravan—

Ravenously bleeds,

Lost in the moments, in the while spent,

When I left to relieve the most basic of needs,

Left to curtail, the spurring ache

That continuously writhes in me

As I followed the steps I’d made

Back to the coven of my peers

Brushing back the pine that sways

Unlocked the key, and swiftly in slow-motion,

The gates closed behind me—

Opening a passageway,

To some demonized reality