page 437-446
Part X11
Poet of the lazy hazy jazz symphonic glass ear that hears the humble hubble bubble blister blithesome words breaking the woody wood wind woozy woof wool of the word mongering mouth I am such a man before men that plays the placid plain and planned plasticity I can with my wordy workmanship to wake the words man under the fire of an open mouth that the God of rain put out the flame of your intercourse is the food of libation the smoke of your breath the cinder of your tongue all an offering from the Gods poet within the integrant plan of nature a plan without fault by the blind eyes of a new born in the small hour of war an Iraq poet birthing the water of a tear poet of the gigantic embittered innate inferiority of the music of red in the troubled anger of blue the sky is weeping weeping wondrous wild wide-anger wiggles the way of the cross where the weasel word’s is a workable weather worm-like in its world power where the air that wrap us share its song with the clear new water though the eye of a needle where yesterday’s breeze seize the home grown brown foam down by the fern that burn to be understood the decrease deceased shadows are running away from the brownness of a mountain pass with its audience of rocks aspens and ponderosa pines the introduction of the wind is welcomed by the sound track of lips and the dancer’s fingers point to the dramatic discovery of an illumination of motion over whelming with its willingness to generalize the determined innocence of a new midnight held in the darkness of daylight without its sunlight I fill in my emotion with alcohol with Colt 45 with the joint with the defense of a smile I acknowledge the extreme importance of force and form of the size of a brilliant thumb pressed to the immortal aggregate of the creator of organs the air is alive with the dreamt logics of a flower that bore the deplore ear of stone alone in the wilderness of a thought the wooded fold of mountain bold in the tiptoe hold of a wild rose that blast the born fast bloom castled to the next text written on the steep and deep will that is still bearing down on the brother who is my lover in the life the mentioned intimate of the antropomorphie figurines Jesus the question is could he read and write the syllable of pleasure did he smell his own musk in his desert walk where he relied neither on the eyes or ears as a measurer of his decoratively blazing fire of an ocean of mountain did he have bad breath these questions ask is no disrespect to get to the humanness of the man of peace and grace man can not but to nick pick at the ten commandments to commit the fine enjoyable utterance that touch the evil found in the breath of the evil chant of the word nigger nigger nigger heard in the mulattoe prominence of Denver where the Hispanic and black and white mix are fighting to be seen of one race multiracial race is the race of the new Americus they are the inherence
Poets yellow is yelling in the ensemble of tulips
Where the deserted butterfly is scarred over by the sweet scent of stonecrop at the foot of yarrows beside the low edge of a breeze telling time with its breath of worms squirming beneath the fat curse at its worst
Poet the precursor of poems poet of the play-possessed child of pious words poets pondering the preposition of a prepubescent prepossession around the thoughts of the Gods you are the prophets of the common good and should take your place among the talk of the streets to teach man the deepest doing tell all of your secrets that all be known lay yourself bare to the emotional bone rife history in your needs to connect with the soul of your readers far and few in this time of movement toward the rhyme of rap each generation its poets anew each few born to it who shall buy the shadows of your soul shucked one by one spark by spark of its spatial needs teach that man need not live in the hell of his own making speak incessantly against the crippling forces of a blind agony’s iron laws in a society grown fat and lazy and heavy of the back of men treated as pack horses to carry the burden of the few in the cities where the ungifted poor common man die in despair and debt and find joy in the promise of a heaven that can never be proved these unperceptive naturalistic victims of religions dependent upon the tragic feeling
Poet of the sharp peaks of pervasive words of the swollen word seduce them till they are tamed in your thorny throat entrap by the scenery of your meanings appease the Gods of the common man caught within the sacrificial lunation of the cross poet the guardian of the gate hold your pen to the fire so that when your name is called you will give your all against the misconceive injustice of time time bare no blame go where the water inhabiting water is spilt on the private wishes mismanaged by the broken memories vibrating their beautiful horny innocence like the wind within the storm wanting to fill up every moderated meditated mitigated motion of its whirligig whittling way with words poets mismanaging meanings mapping the perfect drift of fearful lustral thoughts advancing in its own rhythm requiring neither lung nor tongue in the moment of its silent motion you think of you and you exist in the thoughts of the self my sister points out an ugly flower how can such a thing be save beauty be filtered through the feel of the self same self yet each thing its self an individual that preclude ugliness the individuality is its beauty such are men among men the chain-gang swamp of meaning surrender its consciousness to the nocturnal beauty of an abrupt remorse that travel the midnight geometry of the human temples unlimited in the brotherhood mimicking the gigantic timelessness of water who sacrifice the water for the peace who have forgotten the storms of fresh water with its lyrical bulge busted open upon the earth when will the wind full of rain wave its way dry again in the sunlit clearing of a clean day
Poet with your inner subjective consciousness manifesting the unbearable unthinkable cessation phenomena of the revisionist’s emotional melancholy’s imitation do not forget the substance of passion held in the self-reliance engross dualism in its solitude of splendor caught in the pen of an inquisitor’s terrific hands the unpardonable tongue of street lights with their vapors eyelids opening on the point of dusk with its transparency of darkness coming on strong against the desolation of a nocturnal yellow immensely full of the effort of a dying sun when dawn come go into the immortal streets where man hear the dark sacrifice of a fortnight bright with liberation completely wild the wayward child of an over worn war at the gates of the estates of the sun there we wait only for you to ascend and spend your bright words to shine your light on the rare air held at the end of a lost wind in the mind make amend as if all of mankind is your kin or friend gather together the emotional weather of men’s mind then lurch forward with pen in hand to stitch together the wound that the city inflect on the knowable soul with its waste bound around in the place of the confounded gloom held in the tomb of the flesh the staunch soul waits with its collapsing fantastic gift of wisdom to be spoken of betwixt the fixed end of a dream and what daylight have seen
Poet we love you with your comfortable sorrow devouring the sorrow of all men with your lonely love huddle in your hands you are the sin eatter the woes of the world falls upon you and you bare the weight of it with grace you run the race hung around the neck of mankind the steep and deep race round a sleep that can not tell the end place of this mountain of emotion that we must climb with the heavy chains of our flesh aiming to keep us down your easy words are the stepping stones you know the worse and best of us in you there is relief from grief the cheap that creep upon the small all encumbering whirlwind of passing time you are the witness of your very own speak the lament that weep words that obey those who pray the tormenting comfortless thirst of the world advise us spy for us go into the enemies’ camp where man will do man harm go into the hurtful hunger of war and report all of our doing bring it all to light with your bright strength toward the truth of your peloria pen be you pensive and pious let your poems be pentomic giving penance with all of its pendulusness piled high against the musical notations of the forest where you go around and around in the wilderness in search of the last knowledge of the human soul lost in the bricked over sky
Poet of the homeless for ever looking down poet of love poet of sorrow poet of the Gods you are their handmaids poet you are police politician of words philander philosopher of words prophet preamble preacher walking before your people these are your fates which you can not escape born or made take them to heart and in the heat stand your argufy argument stand your gabber gabble gaga giving light to tough recalcitrant thoughts singing far beyond the myself of the I with its beautiful wounds earned in the battle fought beside the outpour of companion’s Gods maneuvering around the gifted soul for our plutonian faith birth your poems painfully play your way plying deep into the pit of your poetic rendezvous round-about the howls of the Gods to gather our greater gifts giving it in the end poet of the absolute chemical of the brain of the smoke of myself where the hidden murdered of the angels take place above the sore floor of the made and laid overspread shade of the forth earth with its blood and wood food for the winged things stored in the cracks where life seeks a foothold bold to squeeze into the hands of a mother that takes her name off the birth certificate of the abandoned children of the punishment beneath the weary knees on thoughts that have forgotten what was sought in the impeached special falsified pleasured try of the unknown why I spy the last naked lie that poets tell in their rhetoric bullshit voyages resounding off the poems of the treason of ancestral illumination trembling with the ripen electricity that beneficent the extremities of the fatigued eyes the tamed eyes the deafness of eyes reincarnated under the decked efforts that breaks its opaque captivated feminine water aroused by the growth of the motion of emotions enclosed flinch that makes the heart beat its unique intimate fragrant pumping up from the depth on our visions that rise to offend the loss cause of a crowded sky where the clouds built in the hour stand by to shower when its intent is spent the cold blow glow of water when the ground around the air there is heard by the rings of the wings of birds that sing the mention of the approve love of stones for stones in the light grey light of approaching night in the dark remark of sight the divine lust of night is bright and it raised to the passing skies’ replies when the earth birth its own rehearsed imagining chaotic of falling into and out of order the sun have run its light in a changing mood the watching chastening of the wind is done the heart that start near the fear of a tear that breaks down the cheek is aware of the lost cost to be paid by the slow woes that we ware in the trinity of our soul
