poet poet 113007

November 30, 2007

Poet, poet
Tell me another tale.
Wind your words through leaves of oakish paper
fresh print, sharp taste, full-bodied and sweet
Like pepper and black cherries in that merlot last week.

Poet, poet
Tell me another one.
About the time took her hand at a moment’s notice
And she took to your charms with a simple smile.
And how that was years ago, but luck let you slide
Let you by by skin of teeth and tongue of dog.
Eye of bat, wing of frog.

Poet, poet,
Give, flowing outward like Tygrus
the milky mother juice of heaven and pride
And the feelings of home and lands from the past
Homelands, true, and all the tales of being pulled from nest and burrow
from the top trees to swell the ground with number
so angry
So fierce and unjustly hurt
You have no choice but to burst.

Poet, poet
Speak of the time before time
When man was monkey not of soul, but of mind
Just some time last week
Before the great revealing you had when you dropped a quarter in a pay phone
Just to realize your love was no longer at home
and your heart fluttered closed.

Poet, poet
Tell me another tale
About liquor back alleys and marijuana jail
Back-beat births and fire by trial
eighteen day trail mix dinners
Ten week rehab reconciliations gone wrong
Interventions of soul
Decorations of mind

Poet, poet
Give off thy wobbling knees
To hold thyself up on legs of voice
Tongues stronger than armies
Lips firmly gripping tear-shaped faces from times gone by.
I don’t want to hear about the trees;
I want to hear about your knees
Skinned to the broken back-bones of all the years gone by.
I want to hear the cries of loves that withered and died.

Poet, poet
Tell me a tale,
Give me a song to sing
Because the heart longs for newer coats of glitter-glow.
Because the heart has so many things left to know.


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