Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Tuesday Night Post # 2-7

Ummm you are so salty,
     But you are my friend.  What is a friend, but a neighbor of occurrences and mutual acknowledgment?  Acknowledge my shortcomings since what you see is what I give you not who I am or what I will fool others to be.  I give you words just like others give you questions.  I have only what I find scattered around my feet.  These are thoughts dropped by this clumsy scribe. 


*     *     *     *     *

Throw salt in the fire
(Stories of the Two)

This scene you remember rite
Placed in an open field
Empty space to fill with grace
On the last trip to find a truth
he wandered
Draped in a blanket white
A stumble and a fall in a pool
One half wet the other grabbing up
What he saw

A figure above
No choice left
this hand prevented this crawl
She had no voice
A relationship made in resistance
When hands pull and there is no reference
What direction is the question

Twisted and tied this union had no space
But to collide
Violent force that creates
This in turn would suffocate
In her pride she hid her strife
Backed off hands a square to another
This one a brick brother
Mired in a history of misogyny

He wears a jacket of fashionable truth
A black hat adorns this gospel
Unaware she follows
In one judgment she keeps herself shielded
In another she steps where he wants her
Maybe he is not aware
Maybe she is
He will take what makes her a mother

Gladly she gives what is not hers
Thinking what she needs is something
others wish they could recede
Now the new is the fools that follow
This path it corrupts the Youth
In his eyes what is needed
A simple joke
A friendly coax

Solidarity for the salt of this earth
For which they are thirsty
In unison they milk each other’s arrogance

Half Awake I Remember, Half Asleep it Makes Sense

My bed lies beneath a window in my room
In my box
There is no light that filters in
It’s much to early
The only thing that wakes me slowly
is the water
It throws itself on my glass
My eyes slowly open between a thought
One of sleeping and one of remembering
This I try to forget
Memory that I am
still here
Without the love
Without the past
Without the things I use to know
My feet have felt no warmth
to quicken
In this thought I fall
Back down to being insensible
In there it makes sense
Your form
Your figures
Your timeless companionships
Wetness on the glass
Reflects only what will last
I see you there
Never more closer
than when I never knew
what I know
of everlasting
I awake
Time has passed
My regret is that
what I knew I left
What you brought
I can never take

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