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entering into the silence

i.

I will have none of it,
no, not even that,
I won't enter your private hell,
not even to save you
from dreams that came
to this.

There is a serpent lying in the grass
and he eats the light of day,
there are stars that sing,
hanging in the balance
breaking through the skull
of loneliness.

ii.

Poets dancing around our emptiness
we write of poetry, we tango with the
wind in the crucible of desire,
we are flame and water, words
and fingers pointing to love's denial.
Small acts of meanness that forsake
us with untoward hate. Puppets on the string
mouthing words we don't quite understand,
not even now.

iii.

I covet nothing that is not mine alone to carry,
all mirrors have been shattered in my
image. Spring was never waiting in
MacArthur's Park. It is raining with the fire
of forgiveness, "I am only human" written
on tombstones with the blood of recognition.

There is nowhere we have not been together,
suns, sinking into the same ocean, returning
lovers, silhouettes of moonlight and birdsong.

Come to this....

O, thou jealous God.

Editing stage: 

Comments

Your stuff usually leaves me a bit confused about what you are trying to say. But they also for some reason also make me glad I read them lol. This holds true with this one. the imagery is great and the language use is very good but the heart seems either hidden or obscured. (and I never understand why so many poets post poetry in numbered sections). Hope all is well with you up there in Ohio........stan

poring over all here..
this one I love..
its like a personal journal entry
I can picture myself at that coffee shop
I like...everyone knows to leave me alone
unchallenged...Members only..
then so be it..
let wealth carry it over numbers alone

it has a coded feel to it but thats
so of those whom have felt the sting
of much
and created more from that then the
stupid reaction to crushing others
out of glee

this is detailed and graphic
deeply intimate

Thank You for this wonderful
poem

Mr Esker!

Beautiful poetry - you are in a class of your own!

Love Mand xxxxxx

Strange thing, more than three years later..... Thank you all for the reads, replies. Aren't we all in a class of our own as poets? Sometimes, totally resonating with one another, and sometimes not.

~Anna

p.s. Scribbler, think of it this way...chapters...

author comment

True enough!

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