Thanks for the poem i appreciate it...
Composite Things
Suddenly you find yourself
for some unknown reason
staring at the ground
& there is only dirt.
You fall to your hands &
knees & start digging
fascinated by the bits of
rock & detritus
yesterday’s litter
mixed with things from
the earliest beginnings.
Then you pick
up a rock to brush
it off, some common composite
thing, but the whirling
striations have caught your
eye so you fall into an
enchantment wondering how
all these bits of sparkle
swirling with white &
brown ever got
compressed into a package
so small
& how that has come into
your flesh-pink hand
at this very moment
with the sky just as it
is overhead, tilted
slightly away.
Everything freezes together
& stops for that moment,
the universe itself
a composite stone
& you sparkling
deep in its center.
I like poetry for so long as i can remember, to be specific with Baudelaire when i was thirteen. I will gave mine i just wrote yesterday in french translated by A.I. :
As dead as alive
drink the ocean salt
that thirst endures
Winter’s hand
burns in my still
clenched fist until summer
Stirring of the waters:
a whale emerging
from my moist eyes
My animal father
and my plant mother
speak with golden voices
Joy is a cry
heard only by the silence
of tender hearts
Come the season:
Poetry without quarantine
of our dazzled hearts
The pine needle
in my open mouth dreams
that it is a green loaf
The hole in the wheel
is that single cog
playing without being there
Sharp philosopher:
the blued rhododendron
speaks without being bitter
The tiny infinite grows
still, sleeps with closed fists,
In the open hand
I am a banker,
says the tiny turtle
I already have change
Whether worth or whatever
they must do
Comes the unexpected
The heartbreaker
of the worthless heart is this boredom
never to be cured
