"negotiated" poems - Hello Poetry

~ dark early pre-dawn body suspended between the-dark ochre earth tones of night, and the teal pealing notes of warning of an impending morning, signs aborning, me rising with urgency of the leaden half deaden, torn from the bed casket to venture into a different kind of twi-lights, nature demanding both intake and outtake, a restoration of balance but first a bumbling wobbling, the body as carnival bumper car, installing soon-to-be-bruising for later examination-exhumation, lurching from handhold crevices in the walls like crazy cliff climbers, my balance disturbed, eyes try tearing apart the sticky glue of night, my sense of direction keeping me from free falling into green glass edges of glass tables, barely, and not always, red cuts evidentiary “my balance disturbed” words fresh formed, and a poem expulsion required to balance the unjust scales of spirit soul and the body cage, patch an negotiated agreement between warring cousins, just a twenty four hour ceasefire to retrieve the wounded and the corpses unfounded in the small copses of false shelter, like my ancestors expelled from Spain, making escape to be strangers in strange lands, or remain hidden in place neath disguises of clothes of new poems, prayers for old and new gods this new poem comes quick like a young man making first love, for the poem has been written by thousands nights of practicing, so ready for quick retrieving in a smattering of a few minutes, expulsion expulsion what a perfect verbiage to capture the night terrors, the differentials, the procession path between what was and what will be, when my balance restored and this poem’s completion installation in the body of my work, as a nail disguised in the works of my body, entering by command of the pitch black gods

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May 21, 2019

May 21, 2019 at 8:42 AM UTC

pitch-black-god-8

my balance disturbed, night terrors

~ dark early pre-dawn body suspended between the-dark ochre earth tones of night, and the teal pealing notes of warning of an impending morning, signs aborning, me rising with urgency of the leaden half deaden, torn from the bed casket to venture into a different kind of twi-lights, nature demanding both intake and outtake, a restoration of balance but first a bumbling wobbling, the body as carnival bumper car, installing soon-to-be-bruising for later examination-exhumation, lurching from handhold crevices in the walls like crazy cliff climbers, my balance disturbed, eyes try tearing apart the sticky glue of night, my sense of direction keeping me from free falling into green glass edges of glass tables, barely, and not always, red cuts evidentiary “my balance disturbed” words fresh formed, and a poem expulsion required to balance the unjust scales of spirit soul and the body cage, patch an negotiated agreement between warring cousins, just a twenty four hour ceasefire to retrieve the wounded and the corpses unfounded in the small copses of false shelter, like my ancestors expelled from Spain, making escape to be strangers in strange lands, or remain hidden in place neath disguises of clothes of new poems, prayers for old and new gods this new poem comes quick like a young man making first love, for the poem has been written by thousands nights of practicing, so ready for quick retrieving in a smattering of a few minutes, expulsion expulsion what a perfect verbiage to capture the night terrors, the differentials, the procession path between what was and what will be, when my balance restored and this poem’s completion installation in the body of my work, as a nail disguised in the works of my body, entering by command of the pitch black gods