deepundergroundpoetry.com

Blue, Bird

(The Blue Bird)

Kittens do not like rain.
It's not warm-wet
Like their mother's tongue.

So do not make me wait
Under your barely a porch-roof
For long.
Haste yourself home.

I've brought your coat back.
It's my salvation still
As then.
'Tho it's a sad animal hide
Soaked in gray sky-blood
As cold as death.

But I watched a blue bird
Brave the elements
Thrown ahead of it.
Sorcery; the skies brewed
Angry, for clouds have no arms
Nor legs.
Only jealous breath.

And my friend, with your jagged
Hair when it's wet (like mine).
And your blue southern sea eyes.
Eyes like a lighthouse
Seeing me stalling.
I thought of you. I hope of you
Haste yourself home.

We can dry beside the stove.
Dressed in our barely
Brave yet shy underthings .
Eyes shut when glancing
Between knees to face.

Your feet, I will mention
Draw new lines
Every few minutes.

Your lips will let go
Sentences.
But I will only hear my name
So definite and deliberately.

Yet, this rain belittles me.
Nothing warm can
Come of it.
Until you haste yourself home.

~~~

(The Barefoot)

Sometimes the border
Says more than the picture.
Like windows; Curtains flow
Around our faces.
The view is always softened.

And when your draw
Your self-portraits;
Hands, hair, and that hint
Of the valley of your heart...
Should the lines quiver there
Like quotations in a row?
Your heart says so.

It beats fierce, I'm sure.
As a blue bird in a storm.
One of us shall get to the other.
By word, by glance.
By the whisper of a gas stove
Burning blue.
-Just as hot.
Just more of an opening
Where we can feed our sticks.
Pencils they were. Full of words
And images that resembled us.

Blankets of mercy protect us
From the evils of the other.
Oh, witches, we. �Don't
Haste for the proof.

Let the rain tap impatience.
Let the clouds turn to dust.
It all falls outside of us.
The windows all laugh open
Mocking what the storm
Cannot do to us.

~~~