The Challenges of Poetry

to read me   to read me  to read me
                                      must not be:
blind, deaf, blind, deaf... blind-deaf
                                      must not be:
must not be:
                                      must not be:

to read me it is necessary not to be.

being accurate is not reading me...
be precise and don't read me... me
                                  nor forget me.

let me sink. is to sink me! is to sink!


PAR

I noticed her body after her beguiling faced walked in.
It spoke and sang to me with a swaying of heavy hip action.
If only I could dial back my desire then the stars would align,
but the god given geometry wrapping around that frame
would make a chaste man wonder why he went insane
as he saw curves creating arcs upon arcs
intertwining to manifest into shapes
only nature could conceive.
In the lovely female form
there’s a weakness
in me because as she
walks across the room
I continue to gaze while my
rapture increases knowing her body is
hidden beneath thin layers that only deepen
the mystery of a softness that is surely there.
What if I were to simply let my hands wonder
where they wish to go, to peek lightly with
fingertips in a caress down her naked back
with all intent to travel on, if my bold
desires permitted such an act.
I know my place, but she
will learn my charms,
she will see my face,
and look deep into
my eyes and
wonder if
tonight I
am her
fate.

Death will have the final say
No matter how rich or poor you are
Never can you keep it at bay
It will get you, near or far

In youth it is for others
Especially for those with bleak views
For life has so much to offer
Filled with love and colorful sinews

To a point, life is what you make of it
A superb voyage of discovery
Or an endless hell down the pits
With predetermined fatality

So best enjoy while it lasts
Before in the end your ass is grass.

Out in left field, off the deep end, they were all grasping at straws to drink of a half empty glass.  Read between the lines.  Gamble on the game that no one wins.  Over/under, good/evil.  The choice to (double)cross to the other side.  Craft, witticism.

Abandoned Tree of Life.  We pretended not to care about lies.  Far away, the still and deep.  The riverbed's shallow surface shimmers.  Fluent imbalance.  Flowing (e)motion.  Liquidation.  There is a need to cause commtion and stir it up - death.  Ignorant virtue.

A drought runs through our philosophies.  Always thirsty.  Showers of blessing shan't quench the barren.  We cast lots.  Desperately, exaggeration, caricature, cynicism, facetiousness, satire, and sarcasm.  Crown the drama king.  Material theater shines.  Play right/write.

Take them back to school, only it gets worse.  Old or new, there is a learning curve.  Book covers are dusted off and opened.  Study the English way.  A 70 year sentence.  The ancient spelling test.  Magus and Merlin; allusions.

Never a Red Sea moment.  Once in front of the body of water, some wander back into the wilderness.  No need to bridge the gaps.  You can always settle.  It's an impossible temple.  No truss/trust.  No place like outside of home.  Parched, doubting.  Enthralling, disbelief.  Betting, problems.  Wondering realizes.

Bridge trolls ate the goats and stole the river.  Their worship is signaled by porcelain masks and vases.  Mingling and mixing with clay.  Cracking fission suddenly collapses, like the walls of Jericho.  Iron(y) crushes fake identity in due poetic justice.  Actors, actresses.  Hypocrites, me, you.

Some decide to take one brave leap.  Over the meandering?  Gravity really weighs.  Fall on the hard times of reality.  It's an intoxicating shot.  Drunken, into the course, headfirst.  Stubborn.  Can't make it.  One, two, three - we all fall down.  A break gives way.  Skull and bones art.  

Whoever stayed behind, they were thieving to question.  Stealing, under their breath.  Thoughts that robbed them of meaning and purpose.  They got their wish.  Floods carried them away.  Undertow, torrential.  Violent turbulence, circling the drain.  Try to stay above the surface to breathe.  Flapping and flailing.  Like fish out of water, only against the current, struggling.

Washed up upon shores, stay out of the rain.  When the moon hits your eye, there is no levitation.  Ethereal cycling is but a downward spiral, if exalted.  Imagined vanity, creating vanity, within vanity.  Beaten dust out of magic carpets.

The same chapter, perpetually.  Never getting there.  In chambers, urns and flames.  Combustion.  Ashes to ashes.  Dust to dust.  A grave.  The tombstones of Baal.  No matter; what.  Promised land, trekked not.

 
 









There’s no depth to words
Unless we can understand  
The message behind