Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Mediocre Star-Matter

I could be anywhere right now,
Reading my poetry
On a sidewalk bench in Bali, perhaps,
My hair a pigeon’s nest,
Curb-side poet, preacher of the prose,
Each day another rusty penny,
No fancy PC, no notable publication,
Just a beggar with a Dixie cup.
Maybe I’d be somewhere near Idaho,
Hugging the makeshift robes
Of an imposter Jesus in some convent,
Fingers bristling of what it feels
To touch the confess-less hand
Of another body while I’ve still
Breath enough to exist outside
My mausoleum of prayers and psalms.
Or I could be a streetwalker
In the gemmed city of Bangkok,
Slant of my eyes searching the footsteps
Of church men and socialites,
Drunken college kids and uniformed oppressors,
My body a street-side carnival ride
Where stranger men drop their quarters
For an hour or a night,
While my sad eyes flash beneath
Well-lit hotel signs and closet bulbs
Like new pennies.
But I am none of these women,
And who is to say
Who becomes what entity,
Our souls dangling like invisible twine
Beneath the ocean of the sky,
That gaping mouth of whatever random
Universe we each inhabit,
Until the Gods, the elements,
The dusty pieces of hollow stars
Plop you into whatever life you become,
Surreal as a graveyard plot,
Something you never knew until it born you…
Eyes and guts and half-sung lullabies,
As sharp and hot against your ears
As the hum of the stars you once rode atop.

Written For Toads.

13 comments:

  1. For me, this is powerful and I enjoy the way you address the question of where we end up. Love the way you've used the galactic quality in the closing lines.

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  2. Your words are most lovely, and create a stir from far above! Nicely written.

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  3. this was creative and beautiful... i loved the way you said in the start that you could be anywhere... it almost gives a omnipresent feel to it!!

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  4. What a rich fantasy and how hard it suppose to collect yourself in One thing...Love it!

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  5. an oxymoronic title, n'est-ce pas? I love this line: "the dusty pieces of hollow stars" ~

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  6. Ooo, now i don't feel so alone, blowing the word limit like I always do (though, miraculously, I didn't this time. I slipped under it by one measly word!) Anyway, this poem fits the subject beautifully, and would also have done fine for my challenge last Friday of "another you". The ending here is marvelous.

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  7. A descriptive thought provoking write.

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  8. My body a street-side carnival ride
    Where stranger men drop their quarters
    For an hour or a night

    This is really gorgeous writing.

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  9. a generous helping of metaphors

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  10. What an amazing commentary...excellent.

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  11. I like so many stanzas - your imagination soared with this and I really enjoyed it - we are so very small, really, aren't we? Awesome.

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  12. I lost you for a while because you deleted the profile that I had marked. But I found you again just in time to read this remarkable work. :) :) :)
    For me here you are expressing the remarkable potential of humanity couched in the expression of the ordinary. Marvelous from any perspective.

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Thank you for taking the time to comment, it is so appreciated. Your thoughts and critiques are always welcome! I will be by to visit your blog soon!