a e i o u and opposing thumbs
my woman, she's a
snuggler and spooner.
burying herself on my,
no, in my
double barreled chest,
her blonde hair,
my field of gold.^
she landscapes my life,
paralyzing me with the
simplest of gestures.
she sleeps holding my thumbs.
locks me up.
locks me down.
so I cannot transcribe
the lines of poetry mindful,
landlines shut,
land-mines of verse
unexploded,
till these now,
hours later.
a few notes ago,
a few days ago,
heard an octet,
eight voices singing of
five letters, five vowels,
a e i o u.
you can hear what I heard too.
after you listen,
better understand
vowels are the butter of language.
the anointing oil of connectivity.
more than a line of code,
they are the keys to the code,
that make words and life musical.
I suppose we could mange without them if we had to.
spsz v cd mng wthot thm ff v hd t.
but not so well.
I suppose we could manage
without opposing thumbs.
learn to type with my nose,
paint with my toes.
but not so well.
here is how it comes all together.
a e i o u and opposing thumbs,
never give them more than a
never thought, passing over, assumed.
oh yeah, on some tv show,
you can buy a vowel.
these glues are the things that
give me the chance to tell this:
this poem it is a bit about me.
this poem it is a bit about her.
this poem is really about you.
I could live without
a e i o u and opposing thumbs.
but I could not live
without her landscaping my chest.
but
when I share this knowledge
with you friend, it becomes a
verified, realized, acknowledged truth.
So you see this poem is about
a e i o u and opposing thumbs,
but really about you.
In fact, I am thinking,
that if I did not love the title
a e i o u and opposing thumbs
so much,
would entitle it instead,
a wholesome democracy of love.
you, a registered voter,
vote then with both all the
a e i o u and opposing thumbs
at your disposal.
Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 2:42 AM UTC
a e i o u and opposing thumbs
my woman, she's a
snuggler and spooner.
burying herself on my,
no, in my
double barreled chest,
her blonde hair,
my field of gold.^
she landscapes my life,
paralyzing me with the
simplest of gestures.
she sleeps holding my thumbs.
locks me up.
locks me down.
so I cannot transcribe
the lines of poetry mindful,
landlines shut,
land-mines of verse
unexploded,
till these now,
hours later.
a few notes ago,
a few days ago,
heard an octet,
eight voices singing of
five letters, five vowels,
a e i o u.
you can hear what I heard too.
after you listen,
better understand
vowels are the butter of language.
the anointing oil of connectivity.
more than a line of code,
they are the keys to the code,
that make words and life musical.
I suppose we could mange without them if we had to.
spsz v cd mng wthot thm ff v hd t.
but not so well.
I suppose we could manage
without opposing thumbs.
learn to type with my nose,
paint with my toes.
but not so well.
here is how it comes all together.
a e i o u and opposing thumbs,
never give them more than a
never thought, passing over, assumed.
oh yeah, on some tv show,
you can buy a vowel.
these glues are the things that
give me the chance to tell this:
this poem it is a bit about me.
this poem it is a bit about her.
this poem is really about you.
I could live without
a e i o u and opposing thumbs.
but I could not live
without her landscaping my chest.
but
when I share this knowledge
with you friend, it becomes a
verified, realized, acknowledged truth.
So you see this poem is about
a e i o u and opposing thumbs,
but really about you.
In fact, I am thinking,
that if I did not love the title
a e i o u and opposing thumbs
so much,
would entitle it instead,
a wholesome democracy of love.
you, a registered voter,
vote then with both all the
a e i o u and opposing thumbs
at your disposal.
Notes:
^ So she took her love
For to gaze awhile
Upon the fields of barley
In his arms she fell
As her hair came down
Among the fields of gold
Sting "Fields Of Gold"
~~
www.youtube.com/watch?v=mYbFJJnJ9Q4
Aug 5, 2009 - Uploaded by roomfulofteeth
Roomful of Teeth premieres Judd Greenstein's "AEIOU"
~~
Indebted to james-bradley-mccallum for the phrase that deserves a poem of its own,
a wholesome democracy of love.*
Born at midnight, realized at 2:45am,
When my thumbs read the
Declaration of Emancipation.
ha.
Yet and still
Vowels and thumbs
Can live without
As long as we our have
Hearts to point the way...
Request permission to use this poem