Three (more) Poems for the Summer
Untitled
Because of the comatose tripod onlooker secrecy code, I swore I wouldn’t tell (is what I am trying to say). Eventually I did learn how to communicate, but that was years later. I was not under oath, and anyway had forgotten the code.
a.m. c0rridor
The day started with sun beams filtering thru the glass/ making the hall look old/ particles of dust danced in this light[…]
VARIABLES OF PERCEPTION
I hate that people change
Like seasons and weather and
youth seems to die –
Personalities become so tempered,
As years go by
And I see in mine friend’s three eyes which
Once illustrated elation, and now
Death already radiates,
’tis raw truth she wants, but
It is not time yet, Bernadette…
And now my bones betray me!
Like they are wearing away...
Becoming brittle Becoming old, and
My size doesn’t change
It only feels like I am…
And in summer’s early months
I felt happy, but nothing can surpass
That which I feel in early winter days
When all are grays and gray is all, and
I am so prepared to live and to give…
And it seems, like it seemed
Once long ago, the ice
-[s]torm was a sublime event, […]
You might see on the Evening News
Now see you are overrated and anticlimactic…
Even in months of static.
It cannot rain hard enough anymore.
It cannot be gray enough
In Her aging sky, and:
I shall come prepared this time for life.