Scriptor Press - The ElectroLounge

xxiii. Rave
Make something new of the old wood within,
melody of tinder, break the warped & tired
of its weight, sort new hungers from old
afflictions, find muse in singing itself when
no bright hand near & knowing. Wield new
fury with a softer heart. Ache alongside all.
Another day, another rain. Press for new songs
from the grievous familiar. To the dance & sway
caused by sunshine in pink vessels add a
greater litter of peeps in the darkness, green
knowing, sky’s teaching muscle. Greater sway,
greater dance. Rhythm & light. Rousing moon.
Make new toward the trembling, find its music,
carry it elsewhere, not yet where trees await,
nor the green shooting through every blood,
still behold a new fury nearly past man magick,
burst through throttling dreams, candied moments
of accelerating heat. Spiralling hooks between us.
Another day, wind, dance & sway. New fury,
softer heart, leave back study of wound’s
every contour, the facile songs of soothe &
others. Blossoms of blood relieved in water’s
perpetual massage. Tonight implode tonight
endure. Outlaw wishes shape a path for the brave.
Make greater music, reckon wider sky,
play deeper magick. Make from love & thus
birth many truths. Enough lasting for the
brashest & kindness of gestures. Palms outward offer
trust to moon & men & dreams alike. The world
receives its kisses to a ceaseless memory.
Another day, & now its night, & a scribbling hand
pursuing song through trance & gleam. Make something
new of persisting flesh & its throbbing wisdom.
Find muse in singing itself. Wield new fury with a
softer heart. What remains, what returns, the why of
spiralling hooks. Ache alongside all toward a nearing elseway.
***
65
The Cenacle / 54 / April 2005