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joe-bradleyPoems
I The pistons rusted, the furnace grew cold and I lost you at the coal face. The cat had got it and the rest was just noise II We left the strong-men, that mean looking lion. We pushed back the linoleum ***** of a smaller tent, liking the rubber on our hands. *I’m after the fortune-teller telling me on the slopes of The Bones, she will say yes.* The tent was cloaked in this rotten perfume. So smokey, you couldn’t see your hand for your fist. I was dealt the Queen of Pentacles, her the Hanged Man. I watched her nose reflect in the crystal ball. III I watched a ghost depart the dunking stool - a soul disintegrate from a Romany curse. I was dizzied by the strike of a lampshade. those shoulders I stood on Were yours. I rocked as your body was taken away. IV The storyteller had the world on his back! Half Atlas, half time-snail, he was Sticky with aphorism. We listened to his TED Talk and when he left the soil was fertile with prayer… But nothing grew til the sweat of the shovel-man granted the earth some water. V Acceptance. The attendant sprits Spoke wisdom in basic steps. ‘One thing at a time’ A stone cracked. ‘One thing at a time’ An Aegean Daemon watched, A genie whispered… ‘One thing at a time’ VI ‘We’re putty.’ -Sarah stood up in class, obnoxiously- ‘Forged in volcanos, capsules of perfect evolution. We’re of earth, of mud and rainforest and canyon. Of the same stuff as moons, the sparkles across a twilight ocean, the particles caught in sunbeams. We’re the dust that worked. We moved towards this... this beautiful complexity. And you can be anything.’ VII I drew a smile in lipstick Across the face in the mirror VIII Sewing Machines. dumpf dumpf dumf Carolina’s hands. working the tender silk. Dumf, dumpf, dumpf, IX Ella’s lips around his ***** David thrusted like a Spartan. she comes loudly. X *I trust, honestly, I trust what I see with my own two eyes. I see us infected by Delhi Belly, the muck from Gangees is flooding the Seine, the Hudson the Thames. It’s like the third morning After one day of snow. My father’s father Has been forgotten.*  XI Brian awoke on another Wednesday gratefully ********* his gums. Unlike in his dream he still had his pearly whites. XII The dogwood fire licks his face. Sunrise through the dense Bitterroot and Wakan-Tanka. Breath. *‘There is no separation, Us and the river.’* I looked into the wisemans face. Lined. But all I wanted was to sketch an outline, and step in to the silhouette of Someone else.
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Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 10:34 AM UTC
12 Stories on Confidence
I The pistons rusted, the furnace grew cold and I lost you at the coal face. The cat had got it and the rest was just noise II We left the strong-men, that mean looking lion. We pushed back the linoleum ***** of a smaller tent, liking the rubber on our hands. *I’m after the fortune-teller telling me on the slopes of The Bones, she will say yes.* The tent was cloaked in this rotten perfume. So smokey, you couldn’t see your hand for your fist. I was dealt the Queen of Pentacles, her the Hanged Man. I watched her nose reflect in the crystal ball. III I watched a ghost depart the dunking stool - a soul disintegrate from a Romany curse. I was dizzied by the strike of a lampshade. those shoulders I stood on Were yours. I rocked as your body was taken away. IV The storyteller had the world on his back! Half Atlas, half time-snail, he was Sticky with aphorism. We listened to his TED Talk and when he left the soil was fertile with prayer… But nothing grew til the sweat of the shovel-man granted the earth some water. V Acceptance. The attendant sprits Spoke wisdom in basic steps. ‘One thing at a time’ A stone cracked. ‘One thing at a time’ An Aegean Daemon watched, A genie whispered… ‘One thing at a time’ VI ‘We’re putty.’ -Sarah stood up in class, obnoxiously- ‘Forged in volcanos, capsules of perfect evolution. We’re of earth, of mud and rainforest and canyon. Of the same stuff as moons, the sparkles across a twilight ocean, the particles caught in sunbeams. We’re the dust that worked. We moved towards this... this beautiful complexity. And you can be anything.’ VII I drew a smile in lipstick Across the face in the mirror VIII Sewing Machines. dumpf dumpf dumf Carolina’s hands. working the tender silk. Dumf, dumpf, dumpf, IX Ella’s lips around his ***** David thrusted like a Spartan. she comes loudly. X *I trust, honestly, I trust what I see with my own two eyes. I see us infected by Delhi Belly, the muck from Gangees is flooding the Seine, the Hudson the Thames. It’s like the third morning After one day of snow. My father’s father Has been forgotten.*  XI Brian awoke on another Wednesday gratefully ********* his gums. Unlike in his dream he still had his pearly whites. XII The dogwood fire licks his face. Sunrise through the dense Bitterroot and Wakan-Tanka. Breath. *‘There is no separation, Us and the river.’* I looked into the wisemans face. Lined. But all I wanted was to sketch an outline, and step in to the silhouette of Someone else.
joe-bradley
Written by
joe-bradley
English
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 10:34 AM UTC
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