Sunday, December 19, 2010

209. Lilted and Lifted

     vireo vision virgule
this version of events replaced with the events themselves
     there is a bird for light, a name for swimming through it
           fallen snow comes to be another form of illumination
                 cold as an inclination, not an absolute

     water weaving word
threaded water pulsing in a single braid and run
     faucet forcing out the lilting liquid through fluorescent light
           pressure behind and making bars of water fall right through
                 heat as fire surrounding water till the water gives

     closing cloisonné claret
vitreous are the measures of our vision of the earth
     everything through the glassy eyeball’s marble insight
           layers of ice thicken over the pond in gracing fingers of growth
                 what and who sleep frozen under the water and the earth

     missing melted missive
a message moves in steps both backwards and forwards
     we make meaning out of nothing and move it back to its home
           the whispered ear lends enough time for getting or forgetting
                 every word weighs the same but their heft seems various

     bluster bludgeon blurted
not rock but rocking through a silhouette you cannot hear
     the sifted wind wedged into the corner of the house swells and bursts
           against the balustrade of winter we bolster hope and sleep
                 behind the window behind the screen behind the screen of snow

     cinder psalm serviceberry
winter woodfire and the sweet salted smoke of it
     fluttering only in the sense of a flame that disappears at the end of each flap
           wall and window flickering with yellow firelight
                 palms illuminated with a warmth too hot to hold

     parcel pardon parvenu
I have come here for the first time in pieces sent from a distant place
     encased in skin I’m little more than viscera and bone
           articulated for movement even breathing comes naturally
                 the edges of the body against the edges of everything else

     tarot tattle tenderly
revealing and distributing the delicate secrets of an individual life
     bargaining for a do-it-yourself revamp of the form of that life
           cautious or caustic but subtly enough so to keep it undifferentiated
                 a thumb barely touching the soft hollow of the neck

     swindle swagger swaddle
tricked out like a merger of past failures and future disappointments
     secure with the idea that a gait could open into a larger space
          wrapped in a self-same sense of self as security blanket
                 enough layers of night and the cold seems warm

     derelict distinguished distilled
differences among the particulars in a set of people
     sameness as a matter of degrees between horror and succor
           those of us made of themselves in too purified a form and function
                 those who believe the sound of their words to themselves

     foreign fissure fistula
opens in the ground a hole and the steam blows up out of it enraged
     some say a mouth spews in the same manner streams of steamy words
           nothing is not alien to the sentient who see always as if with new eyes
                 dark and unnatural passageways between desire and reality

     liquid lilting lifting
water running over rounded pebbles moves to the sound of its own voice
     the body is liquid segregated and recirculating river
           the body raises its voice to hear itself over the sound of its blood
                 the body in concert with bodies in concert with liquid flowing

     quarrel quaking quandary
an argument connecting two versions of belief
     the quivering of breathing when releasing an arrow in response
           torture as the totaling of all the memories you would give away
                 the problem solving a problem designed to last the ages

     nautical notional national
wander by star and water for curvature of the earth you call curvaceous
     a temporary thought captures your attention off the stern
           trailed by seagulls trailed by clouds trailed by the spinning of the earth
                 assuming everywhere the ocean is is the thought of the ocean

     kicking kissing kill
throw off a shoe to relieve or reveal a foot
     head cocked to the left and the other to the other left
           magnets in the correct orientation and the pull is a draw
                 a stream doesn’t struggle but coasts at a gentle angle down

     hard hardy hardly
in solid frozen winter the soil’s the strength of the covering ice
     what plants rest frozen through frozen winter lie black against white snow
           leafless deathlike lying void of warmth and waiting as if for waking up
                 knowing depth of cold is bigger brighter than the summer’s way

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