Calling To A Moving Castle
Repose
Men of stone
Stack their attempts at Eden
Great golden cairns of disbelief
Every morning creating the world anew
Every sun before the word has been spoken
They’ll stretch the half created plane out before their brides
And we’ll say they went blind
Salted the mine
Unseeing thieves
Knighted for their unknowing
They lay in waiting
Statues turned true
Love Thy Neighbor
Time capsules lost to time
Is the saying not quite the contradiction
In terms
To capture time
And what will you do when you own it?
The Great Measure of Man
Cronos stretched out wide across the horizon
Eternally pushing at the sun
Chasing the moon
In the morning of creation
Who pushed who?
Mother
The earth is resting for me
In me
She turns leaves over and over and into blooms
I saw these blooms and named them refuge
Shelter
I am the earth, I was spoken from the sun, heard by his stars, and made light
A keeping of tides, turners of mouths
The unborn
I weep for them long
Unjust for the capture of my tears
Are named oceans and seas
Where the beaches of eternity wet their lips
A Spare
What does an undying god require?
But desire for fulfillment of the laws of love
A self sacrificial response to the beloveds’ judgement
I know of nothing briefer than infinity
The sleeps between sorrows
Where I am God’s open mouth
Full of broken speech
In hands dizzy by flights of red birds
Fathering food or sewing trees
Their purpose knows not what guides it’s windy wills
And, in that sickness, met God
I paint my head and ask, what roots
A mask is only as heavy as its feet off the ground
And they’re bursting in blooms called nuisance
My baskets seem to hold only water - it’s wetness unmatched for the grains of sand that wash through the veins
It was bound on earth
At its creation
What I long to loose and pour upon taller trees
2925
I want to wake up and be assured it’s all been a dream
The flailing, the fighting, all the energy of big hopes bound to futures that fast fade to grey
I want to have moved on to that big castle of sand we once found
Windy and harsh
On the other side of the globe I landed
Sure footed and bright eyed
Full of love for our generations
A whole swarm of trees, no leaves
The overhead gulls
My autumn of wild grasses
The glitch in our wet stoned house remains but we name it
And put the music on and the top keeps spinning
The big glass box behind the castle walls keep filling
We reinforced it’s sides strong
But can’t seem to the contain the constant flow of attempt at the gold
The birds have no eyes now
And i’m not sure it makes no nevermind
For where were the going anyway
Their soft tones confused with heavy hanging clouds
We hear them not
Graveyard; garden yard
Shouts early and arrives late
Lack the atemporality
Our romance demands
Pursues the path wrought
With declarations of those demanded righteousness
The chances and possibilities seeping at the seems
Oozing of second glances
And stolen stares
Eternity, The Great Leveler
Rejoices at the timeliness
Of an ocean’s tide a
Every man can lose his soul
In it’s specific incarnation
In his specific practice for interpretation
His distinguishes distinctions of time
After the River
They gathered in the legs of chairs
Their arms without wings
Little lies that exist in all the places people
Remain digging
Rooted in wooden feet
Clipped to prevent their wandering minds
Who had grown accustomed to traveling
On airs of imagination
Painting spheres of degrees of separation
Seven too many
Their fatigues curled into
Settled riverine logs
Grained sediment swales
Where rests remain damned
A ton of want permitted to be
Puzzle piece strain at becoming
Rich in wheat, spirits slack
Settled into a winter’s lack at peace
Untidy and unkempt
For graces we couldn’t lease
What will you do when the harvest fails to reach
Where love leapt to the cobwebbed corners of dwelling
The wet remainders of creations lost
To another moon
The queen of many kingdoms
Shiny and unyielding
Her desires - wolf pack cries and eagle shrieks of hunger
A fallen nest, a child to beget
At fathers unmade
Wills unmet
Some cold wet island
Where everythings been abandoned anyway
To madness
Griefs go unpunished
Wind rides on whims
For what’s left to do after you’ve ridden the wind?
Tiny deaths each time a lesser god speaks before the shoreline
Where love is always leaving
And while you surely bed beside
A womb of great tides
Light shines through
Dirty fingers demand a sleeping bride
So I reflect, I reflect, I reflect
A pray the graces I grant
Could give the winters their softer tombs
One more dance to the depths my love
And these unsung ships return their doves
Every morning sun
Sung to that other moon
Sheared and drawn still
For the great belly’s fill
Card Counting
Here the wind blows warmth
Even that stainless silence falls buried, under sand and stone
Understand dear
Despite greats heights of lemony grasses
Balmy in the mid morning dew
Are too due their dismembered hands
Unembodied gods who
Wield wanescoats
And weapons worn still
Homeland
It’s the kind of love that touches everything at once
& takes tiny pieces, stolen when it loses
& he holds all those coffee stain relics
They’re clay icons on an old embroidered shelf
Model airplanes hanging in a kitchen
Wings want for animation
A permanent interlude
They made the handles of cast iron pots
And egg shelled jars of salt
Thoughts but not wholes
He said I’ll carry you to the ocean dear
But forgotten in the dark,
The flesh was left to seer
What is the house
With no beings to people
(when the universe peoples - AW)
But crumbs of wasted days
Fallen from my bright den fires
Four chords of a half heard scale
Burnt books I won’t read
Dried okra blossoms and forgotten spoiled dregs
Now a faded edifice
Ruffles left on the living room floor
Where love lept to the other side
Gold’s stroked abundance there
Where babes stay born from lightning
it begins at the foot of the last three steps
Mill turned waters
At edges of concrete cliffs
Where our petals found their making
Mother made reckless
With their heavy babies
Tears hot
Seared pasts forged
Tin or gold plated futures
Wrought
Our children’s soggy foundations
Clapped a rhythm
Of train bells tolls
Passing by case an expanded
Nature failed to hold still
disciples
The day I was no longer free
Gray greens were mopped from our ocean
So it fell to
Wonder turned suspicious
And our ties became chains
A grave’s disease
The day I was no longer free
The clouds fell without feeling
And heaven’s chord lay at my feet
Low brows
Boughing in the ill tempered breeze
The day I was no longer free
I lay woven
In my big blue sails
With one foot in that fluent tomb
Unsettled in it’s denial to old ages
And I floated out to sea
atonement (or, a story for people who like to hold apologies)
We write words, letters really
And the heartbeat rests at the foot of the brainstem
Angels call on our dirty steps plagued with no ages of wonder
Wilds are crafted and unlikely to echo
The bright light of a morning flame remains horrifying & not a chariot of terrific stature
Guilt carries our laws
Blame came up and painted the rifles
In the honor of the first discourse
Crumbs of horses
Made embroidered stories
Steeped for too long
The code of conduct contained tea leave tithes
And sanguine stains of their sullied spines
Our linen garments lack repose, respite
Retreating to the land of action
To the healer’s house
But at what cost to a cave of possibilities
So the ear of pearls came collected
Presented for a prorate class
Standing aroused at their cut limbs and salvaged sorrows
A whole testament of griefs
A rumpled rug
Sun stained and
Stroked by rain
A home to to sleepy pilgrims
Whose bigs boats full of shadows hoped higher
Ammunitions potential set for the heaven’s stars
But fell short of aim
Targets lost to waters’ edge
Where, oh God
Do our castle motes find their fill
on anchors
When death bows
Growing older by the hour
The stick it had carried for so long became a sword
Accompanied by thorned, spires, weeds from the dragging
Before their time was brought to court
Jealous truths made
Honeyed lips of of liars
Brought deserts to trade
Signs of days ancient
Are the shepard sailor angels
In field or flourish
Judges in cotton, corn
The dirt graves already worn
Anchors buried
By love left behind
a yard of grace
I dreamt our fenced in leaves formed wings today
Their human arrows aimed necessarily
At dancing laughter
At a worm’s rose fever
It tramples the reminded mother underfoot
What is nostalgia if not for Heaven
Run fast enough
Hope carries you before
While leaping high too
To the western pine unwound
For you, the dirt grows tall
Water and blossom shoots unfurl
Thick for mourning
By what sense is that silence sounded
Being, rocked into an azure bath
Sky bodies in constant motion
Their pressure unsure at their lack of age
Bewildered by the difference between
A bead of broken glass
& a fur tipped seed
A familiar print plant
Throbbing verdant red
Our petal filled dream
the yellow room
Sun warm
Spoken inside out
Letters arrange themselves
Where we had to draw
Our stories
Our singing sons
Paintings of what we adored
Illustrative of the love beheld
A willing participant
To a fallen demand
How must false truths confess
Their despair
Bloody misgivings
Thin asks
Gray in apprehension
Spring speaks in his silences
Containers of a tired sort of soil
Buried at the rapture
The fruit born is of misshapen pillars
Of sweetened sap
How to ask for alms
Where prophets dance
In admiration or love?
What price bears the crown?
Knowledge,
Unredeemed or harmonious
A consciousness hired
Rueing
Man’s art of cruelty
Seeds consumed in the fires
Of old wars we lost
Casting swords into water
We make mouths
payments
Of what binds us to gravely sin
A house, a home, a man, a win
The bed made that forms a child
A form that binds within
What made mouths move our canon’s demands?
I beg the waters to be dead and frozen
But desire often wins
When judged, tends to lie
To the child, “do not fear the height”
I ask God what he thinks of this
At its impermanence
I weep a long while
wild metals
The sticky sun shone on our world of dust
And the oak tree leaves hung in love
A mermaid tavern
The oldest of groves
A belly full of storms
Swollen with Jupiter’s thunder
Repose where rain making became dangerous
When the dusty savages turned kings
Tin gods, still wild guardians of the veil
But with fire over fruits
Nobility reckons
As flower tossed tranquility fell as leaps of faith
Crafted by fathers
Repurposed for burden
They broke our bells
Decided on and fought for
Heavy and unanchored, it grew
Chains long having been stolen
Their reason to carry the sun now
So the wish worms
Calling to a moving castle
Long for lost seeds