deepundergroundpoetry.com
Let Flow, Fool, the Nile of Your Tears...
Let Flow, Fool, the Nile of Your Tears,
Like Mine Fell and Filled the Miles and the Years
Companions of a farce, color me dimly
the exact exact exact confusion of confessions,
for all lovers i know are lunatics ! O
amantes sunt amentes!
-and yet how we've come to regard the heart again
by paraphrase of redemption & pursuit.
and might it be enough, knowing how to seem to simply be
stronger for the knowing,
for the believing
& for the grieving.
Fistful of miseries sown! i watched them grow
arthritic against my youthful bones.
and sucked amnesias of a bittersweet leaf
to break the ambrosia of your charms in half and half again.
i have worn the madstone smooth to the crust
& recorded molten madrigals of the Sun
where lunatic love presumes so chary a moan. i have forced myself to swallow
the juju of liquescent moons, brave heart! & sought
to spill your pale light in pools of cold blue blood.
princely cousin of Narcissus,
think of me mouthless.
make of me thoughtless.
forget ye where the memory begins,
it all ends in the language of fire and gasoline.
like a name become a ricochet of time's wasted breath
guttural dissonance only a fool could chase and chase, here we go plunging
ravenous depths,
further inland from all form and truth.
and yet, perhaps the fan will still spin overhead
and spin and spin her waves of slumberless sound
against the summer's thoughtless din.
and maybe motorbikes might howl
loudly beneath the windowsill
while we languish, spoiled to the core.
what i mean are
those certain things in life
that make up a life, the
mad sad bad staggering journey thru time's sacred sand
without direction or protection enough.
but O! in darkest darkness
what spark even the lithe matchstick knows !
and her play of shadow and song
breaks & breaks the shuttered silence
with new glimmerings and jubilance!
by paraphrase of redemption & brute dilution
perhaps it is enough knowing
how to seem to simply be stronger for the knowing,
for the believing & for the grieving,
flaring briefly, yet still breathing
faintly, yet spectacularly anew
against the shrill emulsion of metallic night
whose hum in argute dark seems to dawn on each of us alone.
Published 23rd Jun 2013
| Edited 30th Jun 2013
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23rd Jun 2013 5:34pm
aye should probably be frightened that yr versingsing resonates so well wit me, but i'spose maybe i'm 'beyond' such silliness....frightened as are the precious few who read me, "but I don't quite un
d
err
st an d, what yr sa'ying"........---
prizewinning imagery throughout...yr meta4s never sodden,soggy, nor wearisome, freeversic flow always engaging......butt 'sowhat?' of what IThink.....isn't it a great gift that wee have in the 'talent' to Make Art of our pained absurdity, our Vision, to 3-4 'other people' in this world? huh? eh? doncha think? right? &...& how-are-you-today? Im good,howareyou? imgood,thankyoo.......................
o,well,, fuckit most bless'edly unto thee dear calidregs
d
err
st an d, what yr sa'ying"........---
prizewinning imagery throughout...yr meta4s never sodden,soggy, nor wearisome, freeversic flow always engaging......butt 'sowhat?' of what IThink.....isn't it a great gift that wee have in the 'talent' to Make Art of our pained absurdity, our Vision, to 3-4 'other people' in this world? huh? eh? doncha think? right? &...& how-are-you-today? Im good,howareyou? imgood,thankyoo.......................
o,well,, fuckit most bless'edly unto thee dear calidregs
23rd Jun 2013 8:26pm
I was surprised to see 'motorbike' tossed into the archaic, romantic tone of this, placed there to bring your verse into present day, I assume. for this reason was language created, to be used in your sterling poem...
