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Literature Text
any given Sunday in your church - see me
taking communion in whatever has
become of us - nights flowing to morning
like water to water again - any
given Sunday of remembrance and your
church - and your altar - and your vaulted
love of man - see me
I am small - my knees rub
the earth, I look for Mary and her bright heart -
pincushion heart - to toe the line row the boat
home - our lady of perpetual
holding - water, flooding - mother - mary - mother -
mary, see me
- given a Sunday to love and no days off -
communion for dead hearts in live
hands, wet mouths in wet mouths - bombers
flying over looking for an earth to land -
your - church -
in communion with -
soft earth -
nights
flow to morning
like wine is wine
mother sunday mother remembrance see me
taking communion in whatever has
become of us - nights flowing to morning
like water to water again - any
given Sunday of remembrance and your
church - and your altar - and your vaulted
love of man - see me
I am small - my knees rub
the earth, I look for Mary and her bright heart -
pincushion heart - to toe the line row the boat
home - our lady of perpetual
holding - water, flooding - mother - mary - mother -
mary, see me
- given a Sunday to love and no days off -
communion for dead hearts in live
hands, wet mouths in wet mouths - bombers
flying over looking for an earth to land -
your - church -
in communion with -
soft earth -
nights
flow to morning
like wine is wine
mother sunday mother remembrance see me
Literature
on not knowing.
this road was ten miles long.
i traveled barefoot.
Literature
She was Beautiful
We have a daughter
called poetry
quiet with little fuss
looking up
& molding us as god.
Her small verbs
span indifferent cities,
aloof mountain ranges,
& the hours of
blank faced clocks
between sunrises.
She knows there are
worse things than dark
the black waters of the mind
are scarier.
We have created her
from love,
pressed & dried bouquets
& willow sticks
things only we
could make a life from.
One day we'll wake up
as different people
but the magic
of a shared procreation
will keep us tied
wanting to see each other's
newly patchworked faces.
We have a daughter
called poetry
Literature
a tongue of tea leaves
she has spoken with a tongue of tea leaves
the autumn pied piper
across discarded beer bottles
plays to the phantoms
of summer
the wind, her dusky eyes
a twinge to her rouged lips
rouge, and ragged
her nail polish sparkles
little asteroids glitter
like Orion's belt
she has three places, out of time
three droplets of crystal
the crystalline
she, with her tongue of fortunes
the divine, prediction, prey and predator
she's counting courtship flowers
the tolling bells
among absinthe and aromatic rings
the nettle and bee stings
so that between chances
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i'm on some our lady kick
© 2007 - 2024 manchaliaina
Comments6
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It's interesting... Not bad, but I don't really know if I like the jagged feel of this one.