"deckle" poems
Perfect is not obtainable here.
We need mistakes so our
Miss tries,
Miss understandings,
Miss leads
Can then fix and stop behind
Miss takes.
Superficial smiles and
Clever complements
Plague the imperfect people
Wandering the wide world:
This eccentric earth filled with
Rock and Roll.
Too many people roll away
From any truth left,
Gauging themselves,
Their gluttony filled with
Their fake friends that are
Too much.
Too much like those that roll.
If the world was in a race for
The devil's lair of despair,
They would win--
They are well rounded in that area.
If I was more like myself,
Would people still be my friend?
Whine all you want,
The world will not change if
We can't take the change from our pockets
And cause it to go for a
Better cause than our own
Messed up feelings.
Cause you to change first,
So you can help the big problem
In the world.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 6:58 PM UTC
II. alpenglow
hushed white
first snow's plush
duvet
inimitable beauty
euphoria
in the florid incandescence
infinitely faceted fractals
a conflagration:
fire on the mountaintop,
oh, these halos in the umbra—
roving alpenglow
paper birch
trembling aspen
bent by sheer roiling passion
into a piazza passageway
leading to Our
cloistered
crystal
kingdom
come
an icy, sharp chemical-like hint
of taste lingers
at the back of my throat
a steady stream of
tears cascading down
my face
i lie on the fallen down,
a snowy duvet under a yielding sun
that gifts the little light and warmth it can
crackling paris green
and steaming water
She does not watch us here
Our breath is one and the same
why are your hands so cold?
You whisper
my beloved philtatos,
they are but a mark
of the rites of passage we endured
and a youth idealized
understand
that i am a worn letter lost
burnished ink that once clung
to a burnished nib
on deckle-edge ecru paper
embossed with gold and filigree
do you dare to open me?
Jan 25, 2021
Jan 25, 2021 at 11:55 PM UTC