Scriptor Press - The ElectroLounge

Once. Twice. Breathe. Relax.
Let history’s testaments fall to sand.
Let the trail of old blood diminish away.
Let deepest love cup not contain & thus
learn by release, flutter, renewal, blessing.
Alone, kiss the carpet. Shivering, kiss the sky.
Hopeful, kiss strangeness. Despairing, kiss your dreams.
Once. Twice. Breathe. Relax.
All is forgiven, even what pocks & remains.
When all seems like music, hold out
hands to catch some shine. Give over
to dance riddled in colors, to whatever
persists. To knowing, believing, what clasps
one to another. Breathe. Relax.
***
ii. Turning On
What lasts? Nocturnes, smoke, nothing.
A sheaf, awhile. Trees, ideas of trees,
fire. Stellar revolutions, distances resembling
slowness. Nothing, something. Nocturnes,
smoke. The hope of perhaps. Brighter hours
yet & to come.
What persists? Rhythm & ferment. Skies
softening, wet release, stars, silence.
Human music chasing the eternal. Memories
hung on sweet pikes, skewered through
heart’s every content. Falling through water,
another life, a drifting gesture.
What now? We continue loving in the
distance. The obscure, the underneath.
Something pending, everything, again. Rhythm
& ferment, soon blaze, acceleration.
Pending rivulets shudder, provoke new songs.
***
45
The Cenacle / 54 / April 2005