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Airborne Muse #2: Once I wrote: (1)

if it cannot be said
in ten words, it cannot

(but now, older wiser, more intuitive)

I believe five is plentiful

11/26/24
12:27pm
be ever gentle to thy words
treat them, your tools, well,
cleansing and protecting,
wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin
that they may be well conditioned and
pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous,
reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage,
they are well-intentioned to exist far longer
than your meager temporal life,
upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit

give them all respect, their fair due,
they are treasure immeasurable,
for which you have been granted guardianship,
custody received from others to be gifted onwards,
yours, but for the duration

so oft we trifle words,
expel them from the country of our body,
without passport and earnestness,
as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler,
day tourists, to be treated as leavings,
refuse for daily discardation,
barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance,
but leaving not, a mark of distinction

more truffle than trifle,
find them in the dark forest of your life,
use them sparingly, just for soaring,
take them from the roots of your trees,
shave them with a paring knife,
counts them in bites and measure them in grams,
even in grains,
for words are the seasoning of our lives,
agent provacateurs that can modify the moment,
bringing out to the fore
the flavor of the underlying

speak them slow and distinct,
for they arrive slow to you,
a trickling of refugees for your sheltering,
harbor them as full companions,
protected by natural law,
provision them well,
prepared and ever ready for a quick departure,
moor them at the embarcadero,
for the next restless leg of endlessness,
which they themselves will inform you
will last longer than eternity,
long after there are no humans to speak them
Oct. 6, 2015
4:30am
Manhattan Island
Tears of an unknown spirit patter on my head

Tears of a spirit lost in a world of twists and turns
Gush out of my eyes
Someone asked if I know you today

Which was odd

I said no

I only once knew you
And I wish I never knew at all
even I am puzzled that this phrase
did not prior
tickle my contronymic
poetic senses till now, for what is tender is of not always legal,
and what is legal is far far from
always tender
<>
tender/tenderness

gotta rank in my 10 top fav
words,
nothing transforms
swifter than an
unexpected kiss,
a hug from behind,
the light stroke of a forefinger,
brushing a tear from cheek,
an errant bang, a lock from vision interference,
All Super Legal
gracefully given,
gratefully given,
Wholly Unexpected,
and
great~fully
Accepted


<>
thinking that this maybe one of my
top 11 fav poems
~>
mmmmmmmmmmm
that's the sound
of me purring...
4;13am
July five
2025
Perchance*

A lovely word, a lovely sound.

Perchance,*

When I was resurrected as two bodies,
A pair of cuffed links coupled,
In My Salad Days.

With the fresh taste of freedom,
A first-born infant survivor,
At a ripe old age,
I, rebirthed, and to the fore,
Risen.

In My Salad Days,
When words fell from smiling lips,
Rain and tears flew upwards,
Each and every breath was an

Amen.

All Per Chance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Postscript:

“To die, to sleep -
To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub,
For in this sleep of death what dreams may come...”

― William Shakespeare, Hamlet

"To fall, but rise -
To rise, perchance to be reborn, ay, rub one's eyes in disbelief,
For in this reincarnation, who knows what dreams may come..."
~~ Nat Lipstadt, Perchance
Part of a  longer poem called In My Salad Days.  

*Wikipedia:
Modern use, especially in the United States, refers to a person's heyday when somebody was at the peak of his/her abilities, not necessarily in that person's youth.
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