The bones are really breaking inside of me
and I have no one left to conceive of
no imagination to dry up
no silence to feign
I have no foreign war to derive pleasure from
no shame bought and sold in miles
no fame crumpled and torn like sheets
no clothes fractured and torn
no sheep counted as I fall asleep unborn
no ribbons to tie my hair
no masters to serve
Image source: https://histclo.com/style/head/hair/bowh/chron/hb-chron.html
In the midst of the rubble we must pick up our chins
win sideways or not at all
find the beauty in the butterfly wing
soar on the ocean with the wind whipping
cry in silent tears
as the bombs pound the shores
Fake views brought us this lake of fire
oil tankers, floating Titanics
destined for the depths
but it's humanity
that is really taking
the plunge
We were hoping it would be here by now
but ma'am you will have to wait,
your gratification has been....
delayed.
We are terribly sorry.
Normally the gratification is right on time.
We are dreadfully sorry.
Would you like a cold glass of water while you wait?
Perhaps we could entertain you,
juggling oranges or telling jokes?
There is really no excuse for this
and we think there may have been a thunderstorm
a bomb threat
or an arrow which was aimed at an apple
missed.
We are not sure when gratification will
arrive
in the meantime
may we suggest you read a book
from our library
and sit here by the window.
Gratification will be with you shortly.
May I hang your coat in the
meantime?
Passages from broken poems
pathways back to my home
my bending backbone beckons
pigeons peck the corn filled ground
the graffiti and the engines
of the rushing buses
the frozen man with a cigar
his shadow on the black tar
smoke bellows up
while strobe lights flash
and coffee cups clank
at the Jumping Bean
Audience dance
happenstance chance
Glance
at the fancy pants
fall
into a trance
keep
your balance
hold out your hands
spin and shaman luck shape shift grin
rip and ruby press hold this in
heart love cramp passion slip my lip
change my pockets give me hips
Image source: https://stanceondance.com/2017/02/20/bringing-african-dance-into-the-larger-conversation/ from an article:
Black on black
suffering fool
Rip me apart
it will be cool
Heartbeat Betty
scoops the loop
It's sorty heavy
war cry whoops
Harley Davidson
Grand Canyon Boots
I took my vacation
then I fell moot
In my past life I was a passion flower
pink and rosy blue with yellow insides
melting in the heat of a jungle
in the Amazon
In my god days I was a monk
silent and ringing in that silence
the halls of stone
the mountain of grace
In my glory days I was a ball player
shooting baskets at the buzzer
popping champagne
In my zombie apocalypse years
I was living in a bunker
face covered with dry blood
trying to connect the wires for the bomb
In my jazz days I was a rhumba player
tapping the skins outside in the firelight
by the cafe it was so poetic
it would make Van Gogh swoon
his red hair glistening
under the lights
his eyes
on blue fire
The bones are really breaking inside of me and I have no one left to conceive of no imagination to dry up no silence to feign I have no fore...
