Tag Archives: free verse

Nothing As Far As The Eye Can See

The semiphores all red, we go anyway
Nothing as far as the eye can see
No friends beyond this place, not even a hut or a lean to
Or maybe a cave. Just miles of toil yet, no… months

An old wooden house, as this would be a mirage
I regard the martini in my hand, fill it with skepticism
Where were you crafted?
Was your spirit obtained by hook or crook
Craft or pleasure
Were you reborn, distilled of the same grains as Hannibal gulped as he sleigh an army, letting their blood?

You are the molecular Pearl shell
Of a hundred days and nights
Ripped away discarded, sifted, purified ..
The history is dizzying
And the night tips sideways
Slipping again..
Barely keeping its stars in place
They’ll fall into the trees if not done with care
Where exactly were we supposed to go?

Nothing as far as the eye can see
Yet we go anyway.

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Making Tracks

I set the needle down
Somewhere in the track, that’s lost then found
And fills my ears with life music
You’d think it might be slow
But no no no
That minor key’s about ready to leap free
Arms feel vernal heat, veins tapping to the beat
Music of life pulses those alleys
The dead come to life
The dismal wasteland of dead weights, this scene
Now, pulses like The City Streets, filled with lights
It’s all here, those ghosts
Coming to life in my head, more real than death, laughing…
And their strange times, 8:9, 7:8, relics of that unadulterated greatness ,
A crescent dances along a skyline, smooching a building, while it eyes, lasciviously, a constellation of stars..
(It’s not music, but beyond, music between music, those spaces …feeling, responding. Indelible. It’s the sound the glasses and chairs and room and the stairs. The lights, the floor, the door, the energy between the hands,
not the people- between them, they’re the motion, they’re the beat, the time, the rhythm and the sync. )

You don’t have this track, but you should,
A sax erupts, free from the base, and percussion
Siren like, up into the sky
Free.

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Where is the edge of a poem?

And I’m just curious as so I might clarify
because these things sometimes aren’t clear
where is the edge of the poem?
where is the edge of the poem?
where is it’s start and where is its finish
and I must apologize, i’m referring to where your mind began to think of it
not where the words actually started of course!
because where did it start
because where did it start?
because where..did it..?
Did it begin at the end of the introduction
the last words of my letter?
did it begin at the conversation you didn’t have with your barista?
did it begin at the title of the email?
did it begin at the “check please?” at the cafĂ© that morning?
where does the reading end and where does it begin?
endings seem to be more clarified than beginnings.

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