for R.A.
our northern friend*

~
one foot in two countries,
she is enjambment symbolic,
running a single stanza
without a syntactical break,
by standing simultaneous
in two neighboring cultures

causing her dear readers
from near and far,
some, like me,
from across the borderline,
considerable multifarious symptoms
of
well considered verbal confusion

this,
a gifted special talent
from
she
who straddles  
all kinds of borders
that divide
her
and
unite
her,
that
can be understood/revealed tho,
when observing the northernmost night skies

eh?

expert in modulating
extreme snowed under bay
winterized temperatures,
counterpointed by
drivingopen highways
on summer plains
where the dotted line is
all there is to see
for miles, thousandths wide

she-poet
oft goes quiet,
expelling her breath
between word roarings,
gentlest of periodic
verbal sweets

genteel
my word version for her
gentle so,
in a way that
makes gentility
deserve the nobility
inherent

that is the
work word
that always comes first
when we need to place her,
another star
in the night
flying frying
firmament

enjambment - her word

means I am
all in,
with both hands,
resting on both jambs
of an arched window
that she architects,
peering in,
Making Sure,
I have come to the right place

where she-poet
builds skylights of
northern lights,
igniting

adore her sweet
confusion,
but better yet,
her poems
of clarification
that explain all in,
why when,
we
all look up,
thru her
window exquisite
that she
meant
for us

we always first
turn our glacé glance
northwards
strangely, seeking, illogically,
but not really,
warmth
in the she-poets
northern way

~~

Prologue & Epilogue: How the Poem "The Truth Burden" Came to Be
2016
~~

a twisty, morning borning mystery provocation,
what means
this phraseology, this message,
somewhat comprehensible, mostly not,
tween two poets,
that early-hours-eyes
thirstly imbibe,
these sort of appealingly muddled,
frying words,
so surgically contradictory,
that stab me front and centers?

The Message:
"Poetry is a self-policing agency, enforcing nothing"

~~~
Prologue & Epilogue
~~~

his thinking part
(that part of him, the conscious confused, aching, making,
disaster initialed, abbreviatedly, summarily known as as
M.E.
reads this mystery message,
whereupon  his whole collective,
is instantly over-boarded into
a-sinking-ship-to-shore shape,
that is currently listing,
at
a wrong angle,
a head-in-hands sunk funk

his thinking part,
forced to issue from within his
snowed-in-mind,
a series of serious, ominous
low growls

it's 6:15am on a
snow trampling
Naturday Saturday,
when the Temptress No. 7,
the seventh of the
do-not-do-these-deadly sins,
all part of the  
Ten Commandments of Poetry

#7 - do not write poetry during blizzards

forces me to unsweetenly succumb,
so a fool snowplows on,
incarnating his poetic, natural conflicting notions,
modifying mere growls of
Scarlett's la-de-da pawed phases into
vocal screaming and the labored breathing,
of poetic childbirth

having roused a grumpled, rumpled,
no longer, a winterized saved-from-being-an
emotional-hibernating bear,
having called out the poet out
into the ruckus blizzard
named so eloquently
by the weather bureau as:

"The White Write-Down Blizzard"

each differentiated flake wets my tongue asking only,
create me, explicate me,
hell, just explain me,
this provoking phrase,
giving me the wordy flesh
to flesh out its meaning,
from the successful reckoning of
a pulpy heart failing,
what mean this insane theology?

"Poetry is a self-policing agency, enforcing nothing"

all to to better understand
this no man's land,
this valley of bones,
where my soul has so long resided,
this notion,
amidst the drifts
of cross currents of inbounding
snow flakes crafted,
and crafty revelation,
with unforced, unbelabored, critical
honesty

the why of this rough, hardened cogitation,
has only one answer

"because,"

i.e. to be caused,
without rhyme or reason to
rhyme and reason
a cussed must,
write!

for now residing in
the visionary Venn diagram
where words
(circle A),
and life's fibrous, porous, event driven
breathing content
(circle B),
intersect,
the land where the heated blood circulating,
pin ****** all skin,
A ∩ B
is

this wild land where there is
no rule of law,
except one,
the essence of the sanctity of
the human
poem