melody is the way you hear it

melody is the sound you make

melody is the way you see it

melody is the noise you create


crash and burn through ashes and FURNACES

fall and dive into cold blue STREAMS

slip and fall through silhouette ANGELS

go to sleep under sundered SKIES

hanging by a thread
sunlight pools at my feet
burning, raging reflections
brushing at my fingertips
no walls, no ceilings
just a pair of sunken eyes
blinking slowly
taking in the picture
just a mouthful of barbed wire
breathing rusted metal
memorizing my trails
I will start with nothing

let's cross the street to find out what's there
gives a me reason to move closer to you
match your step, look at you from the side
and smile at whatever you were saying
just don't stop talking just yet
i love how you express yourself
with your silly jokes, not for grown folks
and your confidence that you will be heard
above the crowd we are descending in to
you hang back a bit as we approach the door
but i know you aren't polite really
you're enjoying my tight jeans
you whisper that you remembered i like this place
does it matter as we sit

now i have to break our little embrace
as all along as we sped by
you, me, we took the other's hand
and made ourselves one so easily, so naturally
so as not to feel the interlocking of our fingers
easy bounce of that connector between us
now we have to sit
and i can't bear to part

A picture won't do justice,
For beauty is in motion.
Those thousand words are useless.
They don't denote devotion.

My rhymes and schemes may capture
A sliver of a moment,
While blinks of yours enrapture
And hold me without comment.

For words and verse are nothing
Compared to feelings fleet,
And just blinking's what I need
From you to be complete.

295

Unto like Story—Trouble has enticed me—
How Kinsmen fell—
Brothers and Sister—who preferred the Glory—
And their young will
Bent to the Scaffold, or in Dungeons—chanted—
Till God’s full time—
When they let go the ignominy—smiling—
And Shame went still—

Unto guessed Crests, my moaning fancy, leads me,
Worn fair
By Heads rejected—in the lower country—
Of honors there—
Such spirit makes her perpetual mention,
That I—grown bold—
Step martial—at my Crucifixion—
As Trumpets—rolled—

Feet, small as mine—have marched in Revolution
Firm to the Drum—
Hands—not so stout—hoisted them—in witness—
When Speech went numb—
Let me not shame their sublime deportments—
Drilled bright—
Beckoning—Etruscan invitation—
Toward Light—

A splinter of time is felt in carpet treads
And your smiling question look
When you know exactly what it is
I want
As you are always there in tails of light
From ivy shining gold on
Waiting trees in evening's thinning presence

As I wait now.

And from this place I watch myself
And see the knots and pain so clear:
They are all the meals I eat that
Parents ate that all the silent unnamed
Faces round this table now
That were and breathed and tasted morning air,
And are not.

Breathe through me.

Now feel all they meant to say.

I stroke words with mouse's arrow -
But feel no easy daylight common sense,
Blessed and cursed to know
Elating separation from the scrabbles
In shallow city seas of present
Struggle to survive and breed.

And yes I know there will be more -
More fresh and blue high wakening days;
While earths of slow engendering wait
Content to breathe alone until I
Stop

To breathe with them.

He moves them forward so sensitively.
Palms spread: firmly gently, shielding ushering
To the front
Each small dark group with grieving wreathes.

As they advance he swings behind another
-Almost jaunty light he moves -
Till time is right, and then again
They go to place against the stone

More flowers.