NaPoWriMo Napalm Week 2

9.

I've come back from a long journey

Sought to know myself in times of victory

Sought to know myself in times of doubt

I have found out

It is better to love

And

That I did not have to seek for that

so far and wide

for it was with me

all the while.

10.

The graves that were his eyes

shut out the light

coming from the better days

Even though we knew better,

we faded into promises,

false faces

and names that were not our own

Play the castanets, you fucking vultures.

Let's see how well you can dance without legs.

Give me a thread to run me through

or a threat to start me living again.

The graves that were his eyes went out

with a soft, stuttering fall.

Better leave the blaming to nobody;

we like it best

that

not this

way

11.

Ramble not, Time

lest we falter

and fall in

behind thee.

I wasted years.

(thats a sound admission)

I no longer feel anything about it at all.

I'm much more interested in watching the birds

c d

r o

u w

i n

s

e from newly budded tree-limbs

Much more interested, True, in just about anything.

12.

I want to be a dervish

so that I may drink wine

The flat golden compass

that points to the poems

Exiled from your light

I would suffer

Reunited with you

I would rejoice

But it is the same

Instant to instant

exiled and rejoined

I brush the sun and dive

brush and dive

Never melting the wax

in the wings that you crafted

13.

Wheat:

when you look out there

on a summer's day

you can see every war that was ever fought

and every love that was ever won.

14.

Green spark flying-

rivals-

snake specimens for comfort

slick jade skins sin

Eloquent waters

belligerent with thickness

tempts sent Magdalene

to reject the christ

and flee with John

shrieking

"I never knew him!"

Bend time with effort

quick silk smooth

soft shining symbol

Sigh like sad eyes

fires eagerly hiding

on the dying side

15.

Burn the nova streets

into a worn and empty dawn

Stamp out the stars for shoes

Look out,

Chicago

Memory plays a better tune than your trombones

and

"don't care if I do, but I'll get some all the same"

We could tack this up against the night sky

among all your excuses

for lights, you little pricks

but

we'd still wind up hardly breathing

hardly living

and

complaining

complaining

complaining