Monday, January 3, 2011

224. Articulation of the Silent Voice

Wither, and going where
to see the little children of it,
viscous fulgurations

Of thought they thought nothing
or no-one more than you would
could fashion a fathoming

Bolstered into it

Splintered visions
reminiscent of
fractured light

Bilges of desire
and homunculus will
the violent borborygmus
of the body

Canted angle
to every shot
rung out

Concupiscent
parsings of sense
till the right one’s
excepted

Ligneous expectations
versus ferrous
realities oxidized

Everything
reified and full
of sunshine

Dogma is always canine

Bedizened ideas
surrounding subtile
subterranean meanings

Solferino sunsets
preceding raven nights
sidereal

Spalted, dappled, damask,
mottled, molten,
melted into new shapes

Estival dreams
in wintry
reality

I as a token
form of
pycnogonid being

Creases you find
between digits of
brachydactylic hands
fidgeting a
tune or a drawing
out

A contumely not
tunefully meant
or made to what
worsted thought
you might make

Yours was a paean
to purse of lips for
words and making
it out

Logodaedaly
and legerdemain
a slight tremor
to the hand
in the main

I had a thought here
multifarious and
variegated so
it seemed like
more than one.

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