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eliot-greenePoems
I. Upon entering into this new life One must remember to forget So many things So that we can come into this natural again The osmosis of skin within the carefull Language of rain Motorcycles grunting to the welcome of the wind The treadfast of shoes among the open breath of sidewalk The old pages of a lover Opened and left upon night Till the ink and the darkness have become The same shifting shadow II. So many of us enter into this Silently Without warning This skyline and street signs whisper a symphony A song that is etching its genesis of notes Upon my bones A pale brail story that wanders So close to the lips of this city that one might think The very buildings are leaning down To steal them a kiss This is a festival For teeth and fingernail For wrist and hip And the ever elongating spine III. Let us come to claim these trespassers Just as this city has come to claim us The same way we claim Our shadow when we Turn away from the sun Such things we leave upon arriving The endless dust shimmering In the rising dawn
0
Jun 24, 2011
Jun 24, 2011 at 8:42 AM UTC
Upon Entering Your New Life
I. Upon entering into this new life One must remember to forget So many things So that we can come into this natural again The osmosis of skin within the carefull Language of rain Motorcycles grunting to the welcome of the wind The treadfast of shoes among the open breath of sidewalk The old pages of a lover Opened and left upon night Till the ink and the darkness have become The same shifting shadow II. So many of us enter into this Silently Without warning This skyline and street signs whisper a symphony A song that is etching its genesis of notes Upon my bones A pale brail story that wanders So close to the lips of this city that one might think The very buildings are leaning down To steal them a kiss This is a festival For teeth and fingernail For wrist and hip And the ever elongating spine III. Let us come to claim these trespassers Just as this city has come to claim us The same way we claim Our shadow when we Turn away from the sun Such things we leave upon arriving The endless dust shimmering In the rising dawn
eliot-greene
Written by
eliot-greene
American
Jun 24, 2011
Jun 24, 2011 at 8:42 AM UTC
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