Forlorn and Facing Reconfiguration

I withdrew my efforts months before months before

I am blank canvas, abandoned like the empty mine—still 

possessing gold; seemingly, knowledge only I care to know

dust settles and design forms an abstractive patterning—yet, all assurances I can now provide are but trivial, unintentional; only residue, coincidentally shed upon, what once was the bark of pine

I rescinded perseverance, long before long seemed forever far

I am the rusted chain; I am the captive’s scar—so antiquated, a reminder of a past so effortlessly shunned away

dampness stirs alive the cloth—a cloth cares not for futures, of consequence or repercussion; it only does what you ask it to, be that wiping fresh a dirtied slate or offering moisture to an arid face.

I disassembled my entirety, part before piece before part and piece

I am mechanical; calculative—dividing out the old and worn, a sum of parts infused as new, fully aware, some slivers can never be removed.

  

The Case of the Wounded Bird

Fly, flutter, flutter, And Fly

Away.

Flutter, Fly, fly, flutter, flutter, fly

Away.

Fly, Fly, fly, fluttering, flying, fluttering, fluttering, fly

Away.

Flutter-flutter

Did I stutter, fly away

Fly-fly, fly

Flying high.

Flutter, flutter, fly, fly, flutter, flutter fly

Away, away

Soar

To heights so high

The sky is endless

If you fly

And if you can’t,

Then flutter, flutter fast.

Independence

Auditory shields withdrawn

         Unveiling the perplexities of paradoxical revelry

As freedom chimes the chalice brim

With golden spoons and self-satisfactory grins

         On this day some time prior,

Atop this very soil independence alit desire

 Through violent means and refusing coils

A snake once tread was draped in silence

Entertaining the truce beset before

Pandering swiftly because and for

Sentient creations bright and biased

Mindful only to the severed silence

Accompanying the loops beneath

Underpinnings of dream and feast

Many still free to suffer

While the morally indigent smugly sit,

In fabrics befitting of fancied queens and kings

         Smirking their usurping smiles

Daring to outline those sins that assailed against

As they detail painful occurrence

Resulting from illicit trysts and fits

        

         And yet they suffer still,

As undigested beast and swine

Foully stutter beneath their belly lines

         Dousing gluttony’s grit

With each reddened chalice

         Tipped throughout periods of shortened time

Contrast this suffering

 To the scraps denied

         Those tables where true patriots dine

Happy to live and breath in a land that’s free

         Content to rest heads at night

Knowing love has blessed each of them

         That anything is possible

Despite the outstretched necks and noses snubbed

          Piling their plates with oppressive “love”

 As those stuffed tummies

         Bobble like gelatinous cubes

Amused by parlays wagered upon

         The distance made by children of a common man

Night terrors pass

As lightning affixes a midnight sky

Erupting pulsars

Loaded high

Where snakes stain the hands of children

Both rich and poor

***

Evading Bedouin tags

 Once reserved

For clouted men

In silken rags

And those defined

By poverty

 Somaticizing

As the tides shuffle in a darkened moon

The earth hides its vegetation under

Blankets of sleep

         Sounds of starlight whispers

         Take a bow

         As curtains retract

         Illuminating annualized Passion plays

All ills rescind

All sins forgiven

For but invariable lengths of minutes spent

On a hill

Or in the stands

Above the skyline

Looking out

Alone

Or in the company of many

Where outlooks are for the moment

Unified

 Overlooking oceans and seas

From far off lands caressed by sandy sheets

To elaborate palatial escapes in the east

                           Palettes shift

                           In shade and hue

                           Assumptions bleed well into

                           The extravagance blinding the sight of stars

                           As the orchestral movements carve their niche

                           All eyes become enriched

                                    From Presidents to hoodwinked fool

On this night, independence and hope comes alive for you

The Readiness (and then She happened)

The Readiness was there, it was everywhere

Magnetic, is how she happened,

An alternating essence, evolving every layer,

Dissolving suicidal cravings,

I knew, there right then, God indeed has plans for men,

 Over built and destructive to the soul, the dilemma quite atrocious,

When the creator has cradled his project,

Would not assign responsibilities to his team,

Then when the funding cut,

He had his baby but not much of what he did,

The razor was vertical,

Inches from impact,

Sweat tore holes through once distinguished clothes,

Quivering, twitching, having the hardest time steadying,

Then the cavalry marched on in,

Sent his son and daughter away for the weekend,

Couldn’t let them be the first to see,

Yet it appears his son left behind a piece of him,

The phone which some believed attached to his hand,

Perhaps it was not the moment, he may return before they came,

So instead he would choose to deliver the phone to him,

Then alone he could be, with his deadliest intention,

But as you know, as you’ve been tipped off to,

The best laid plans often fall right through,

On the path back home,

His children’s faces, they way they presented themselves,

Right there, at that time,

It’s like they were cognizant in an unfathomable way,

Perhaps his melodramatic words gave him away,

Perhaps, but as you know things don’t end this way,

Roads of tar, one way out,

Due to construction, a different avenue back,

A street one block over,

Could have been in California,

All this time, each day since passed,

This feeling so close,

A smile crept upon his face,

Puffy thoughts could not escape,

Random stumbling of the words,

Music loud, if you knew him, you too would find it absurd,

But all of this had fine reason,

Shaking feet, sweaty hands,

Veins screaming for injection,

Injection of her again,

And so begins a tale we all thought was done,

Yet through some well timed twists of fate,

This man shall experience, a truly new, a reason to be,

He shall embark upon a brand new second life, a season filled only with varying speeds

A Genesis

A genesis

Proclamation

Followed like step by steps

Over and over

Repeatedly

Glowing

Teaching and learning

Leading the way

Guided by the softest hand

To a place so far it’s very near

Soon, the moment,

A pause and then

An exchange

A swapping of personality

A new chance to experience

A vow to forever

Exit that circle of decay

Away, out of this poisoned garden

Away

Life Reincarnated

It appears an eternity has been erased,

There is a static beginning,

And a fluid end, obviously yet to come,

But the parts in-between seem to have

Traversed this lifetime,

And I am left awaiting its return,

Dreams are like foreign films,

Familiar images in dissimilar scenes,

These are the memories of someone else, a person I’ve never known,

It seems the understanding has returned,

To all the chariots, go forth and tell the world,

Your king has returned,

We are all given two things, life and death,

These are the only constants that connect us all,

It’s what we do in that sacred field of experience,

That pasture of plentitude, that chasm of what cannot be,

It is in this place we cast our unique molds,

And tonight I cast my own,

All the images in my head are nightmares I must bear,

Yet I’ve been given that, which I’ve yet to hear,

A life a death, a Rebirth

Where the only similarities lie within the face