Monday, August 20, 2012

Another Pome Read for a Gathering...

A quaint remembrance, or ‘In Remembrance’

It will become the damndest thing;
a seeing sending unit around each corner, tethered to
armored ships at sea, though rumored to be
steaming fast as reality
into the face of a minor objection-
Spending and spelling, buying, then selling;
we’ve a favorite habit known to all,
and each with its own foxhole reverie.

The backlit brightness of a foot soldier’s vivid memories,
caught between the thorny teeth of all the
machines, essence extracted and
left on the back doorstep with a stray cat’s shattered mice in hope
that the God within will smile and pause,
only for a patchwork-moment before going onto the day’s material hymns
and the night’s totemic, rightful dreams.

Hey- it’s not selfish, it’s what we've collected
beneath these very stars;
lidded with mists or pricked through
in Your service;
greeting the lonely or saluting the wicked
at infrequent prayer.
Regardless, in battle, the night can last forever.

Passing through at a pace familiar only to biology
in your wild places and in my heart,
each toils feebly for a national ideal,
and the impossible is inevitably, metacognitively worshipped .
Indeed, as both the brazen and weary pass from this
world in violence or in some similar peace,
It is only the rest who can keep their dreams aflame.

Family Fun and Things That Happen Despite Our Objections

Halloween, cutting dead out of the sick tree, a landmark destroyed in the face of progress and civilization, and wind in the yellow g...