Sunday, April 11, 2010

house of fires

01. traced caustic. traced frail. and withheld in dissolved refrain these sometime wishes caught fast in a flame let loose of the prayer and hollowed their theme to follow up this hopeful spire and utter fiercely
{to their dreams}
I once held these in cares these once were my replies
and fell out this purpose for the lack of regard I stained graciously the mast feigned hopelessly the bow

}and grasped{


02. when thought in despair created and famously spent this coloured stone weighed neatly in the prime cellos and crowed fairly by sallow shores for these following chimes lulled deftly to sleep the chewing crowd [when will stubborn retorts offer whimpered replies] became the source of the play the object of the game

this tapped that on its broken design
pressed so firmly
it pressed the mired crawling reprise

03. forbidding the trampled disguise and casting a line to the pooling sky for the solid echo of relief that fosters empty homes beneath its craning wing and sings full melodies of wanton minds:

 ~laugh deep you metal fawns and come bitter from your folds~

"that we might settle calmly amongst your supple cares and burn secretly the edges of this desire," smother and stoke and tender this reubuke.

04. rake out the tested frames but here suspends the summation for only in the clearest of screens are caught the most slender rhymes bristling frankly in furrowed divides and kissing their lips [cold still] on the precious constancies raised in sordid assumption and torn from some other storm and place in the show for the similar astonishment placed side by side each more troubling than the first each more free than the next until as one final element they will be raised shining above the openly debated frozen plastic

(05.) crane [(stooping low and holding those dreams melted in her creeping claws) and funnel down towards the old oak base] where in the useless years the poet played a copper harp and told some false account of a candles journey in a torrid heart that raced and reached and ran its course from town to city [from pulse to pulse] it rattled furious and rumbled dull and spilled its light here on the floor the solid stone / the broken hearth

(a) and there for hours
the story met its blind old friend the hostile jar
and filled its careful womb with a wincing pure disease
and cleft open the polished sides
and spewed once again its pretty lies
on and over and into the well
and down and under the penitent town

(b) seizing in light the molten appeal hollered up to the tower and past the clocks face and over the moon and beyond the night where patience feeds the bellows.

the bellows that blow. 
the bellows that blow restlessly.

.that blow. 

.that blow air.

07. wish ever to drink great draughts of this feathered air
that winds through mottled hours
hanging heavy above our heads
we'd be grateful for even a thimble-full
we cry
arms outstretched feeling cool on our fingertips the icy current
but seeing nothing but our heads
our mouths
our lips
our bellies denied
and we wait without grace for the white-stone guard to loosen this lock
make light this chain long and how fair is this sentence this gift this page..