poems
"if it's a trick"
it's raining. it's snowing.
it's snowing, it's raining.
if it's a trick,
don't tell me.
God's up late watching it all happen.
as for me,
i must borrow from all this chaos
to keep honest.
i am clumsy in my solitude.
outmoded in my forms of sadness.
i love what matters
and i love what doesn't matter.
i love the starry mouth of the night
and the incidental blue threads of sky that outline it.
i love the curious music in your eyes.
i love the hinge of a blackcrow's wing.
i love how truth flows,
simple as water,
under the dead philosopher
and his failed system.
i love his failed system.
i love what is naked in your eyes.
am i still talking.
something invisible is pushing against my ribs & the air.
it says, "live here. live here.
silence is a thing for returning to later."
and so i apprenticed myself to the stuttering rain
and the noisy singing notes of snow
falling down through the air
and i received this knowledge.
"the wormy laws of men are overthrown
by the beautiful argument of a song."
if it's a trick,
don't tell me....
more poems
|
