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March 22, 2018 | | Comments 0

Returning From The Slumber

March 22, 2018

Returning from the slumber of a star’s echo-song
quenched by Time and saturated by Pause,
Piece by piece, thread by thread, these days bend
and grind, swim and wind their ways through lamplight
bright, fading, unlit and pawning grey for green-brown,
lavender for unique roses and shy tulips beneath the
frost-line of December’s grin…

I crawl, dive, subside and glisten while listening to
caves illuminated by glowing bone-gowns dancing,
pythons, scorpions, heartache and voodoo tempers
stewing in cauldrons of sugar-meal and Frost King
momentum churning,

Fingerprints evaporating as snowflakes exhale into
the sun from whence I came,
None of this really is or isn’t, someone said ‘yes’ and
I landed, I grabbed onto a dividing cell and tore it
apart so to share its lonesome oneness with this world
and in remembrance of, with and inside reaching out
from that other…

Your mind is made up while angelic demons burn
books so to have carbon to alchemize new-book-page
inks: it’s a dance, trance, romance and a necromancer’s
sixth birthday, the cake is a donated heart from a
collapsing star, the candles are six vertical suns, their
last momentums holding softly to feel an out-breath
and secure a wish ushering in wrapped presents, jars
of seeds, wands of unlimited power and humility,
diagrams for conjuring the new and oldest of ancient…

Nearby a clock ticks underground,
Nearby closeness closes the eyes of an elderly clown,
Nearby a railroad winds itself up, grows a cast-iron
nautilus speckled with rubies, diamonds and naked
undulating, alien bodies tattooed with crop circles yet
laid out and sprouting golden grains, black with fervor
for Pluto and white so to smile from inside Venus’s eyes,
It dives deep so to tell the time to pregnant processions
of mole princesses and stadiums of fertile gopher mistresses…

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