Wordless

If when in correction I seek my name I'll ask for the music to play and oh how sweet when rhymes are backward do we listen to not hear do we see.I reach through this dark again for a blessing for a stone to crumble in my hand earth to dust heard,water crimson and thick bone broken and patient brick upon brick life stacked high and forgotten beautifully painted like skin on canvas burning,I will copy and not trace I will type stigma I will stand in this book yelling and then I will lay the septer down and you will bow because you will know how,these corridors for miles they stray lined with unwanted tears and filled cups yellow halos and straight ties whispered endings middle names corrosion rusting lying,dreams dying to live lives flying on pavements grey warmth hiding coldness shattered arriving then leaving words disappearing.oh how shame breaks away so tameing the day can be thoughtless and scared oh how jolly it runs finding no steps to follow nor path upon.oh wicked for wickeds sake where horses graze in dried up fields with cows for company sleep awake and men push wheelbarrows down steep hills and woman bathe in mud,forge that tune said the poet forge it before the sun winks again write that line and squeeze thine heart of smokey mist nail it to the opening.it is sweet once said of buried haze it is falling behind the wall it will die again in memory never floating through broken door and if conclusion sets this sail on wTers bound for storm I say that this a sinners tale must hack at life reborn.....

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