EGG-SHAPED, Ode to Williams

Alphabet hack or halfovit science?
I put my research  on hold for a minute.
It seemed as though to miss me the ingrate.
While it grows more attached to my insides.

IT repeats its mantras whle I'm sleeping.
Or keeps me all night awakened by it.
Bring me my alibi bring me my spirit.
But first let it pass near the innocence.

And whisper in its tender ear something,
Something altogether mystical, sage.
I see where you're going I'm sorry
Earlier, I wasn't ready to listen.

Interrupt me again and I will speak.
Or tell it to me again and again

Ode to Arab Men

Arab Men they are so earthy and warm.

They never interrupt you or even yawn.

They have norms of tradition are helpful.

THey won't TOUCH you even. I'm grateful.

I don't want a man touching on me then.

I prefer we communicate through poetry.

Love of my Brother of chaste desire.

A child of God notwithstanding, fine.

No eagerness to satisfy his crotch.

He feigns he's American for my good?

I wish I could be covered from head to foot.

I'd rather wear a Burka than be fetished.

But here comes a Christian soldier instead

Unlike any other that came to tread.

Absolute (__)eath

--Shall have no dominion, DT

These are the words that are no words at all

Zero that represents absolute wholes

Vanished every time it approaches null

There’s no gray area where it’s fulfilled

But death, death alone has value of soul

The martyr has lived a full life, not so?

For an ideal it was tolled at once

Being is the purchase of an idol

While living is everything inspired

How so?  How can innocence fall apart?

How can shattered hearts all scattered about

speak if not by the silence of virtue?

Don’t speak to me of the bombs I purchased

But lull me to sleep without a conscience.

Magic Idealism

Last week it was Faith this time it's Magic.
Or Magical Thinking, a Book Project,

How Misguided is War how Insipid
for Proving what Animals wouldn't?

It is not a Lark but a Mystery.

When Arthur died so did England as Well.

Anything afterward was Epochal

Eulogy must never Suffice , Why?

Accepting Death is Accepting it Soon.

Death is a Syllogism an Errand

But to Live is to Life its Expression.

Just as killing is Rhythm of Dying

Calling it Closer to its Nothingness

Burning the Feet of an Innocent Soul

TREE FRUIT

--Everybody dreams, Jorie Graham

The eye is a bird in search of a branch

vision is a tree in the window

while leaves appear naked they wear the wind

stretched across the vastness of an arch

and swinging in the earth’s head of hair

all intervening air as though solid

palpitates the verge of embodiment

what was once invisible appears there

by its root by its bower and its heart

the tree is no tree alone to itself

but the rustle of its silent breath’s share

a mystery born of inherent power

which would seem to stand yet it flowers

collecting what it hears as it listens

mirrored in the fruit of its existence

*http://www.joriegraham.com/interview_ratzabi

OCEAN-WINGED FEATHER

As the Cloud spreads its Wings made of Ocean

Over the horizon, Mountain-Bouquets--

And the world is beheld in Reflection

The Feathers of the Molecules Unbound

Rain far and Wide within their Thunder

That may not Fall to Earth as yet Ascend

Contented by Wind-Benign Attraction

Beyond and Far-Away as they Wander

Playful Cumulus Bastion of Worry

Growing ever Heavier than Heaven

Pressed against the Ominous Filtered Air

Its Presence Gathers Surface from Its Urn.

A Vehicle, A Vessel, and A Plume

Flies to its Original Source Returns

CLOUD FLOWER

The Clouds in the sky are of such Beauty.

They vary by their size and proportion.

Across the Face of their  Body they Cry

The Tears of the Universe fall Upon

One another are delicately Sheathed

As each to itself is a Mirror Shape

Edges of Infinite Blades cut their Nape

While Profusely they fly as they Feather

I don’t know WHy such Loveliness Ails,

For it becomes what once was a Sail

when it swings from the Rooftop a Ceiling

The Cloud within the Cloud within the Clouds

Consummate the Distance of an Hour.