Tuesday, November 8, 2011

A Blues Ditty

A Blues Ditty

Why do I keep looking to the sky for inspiration?
As if some booming voice will shower truth upon me:
“Do this, go there, be that, try harder.”
And so the sky and heavens and lunatic phantasms
Are silent, save the booming voice of blueness:
Not melancholy, nor sadness, nor loathing,

But blueness: A one-sided call and response:
But blueness: The only color to be seen:
But blueness: An unoxygenated blood lust:
But blueness: The new palate…palate…palate:
But blueness: Where children’s bubbles go:
But blueness: the quadrillion shades of blue:

The silent, booming blue.

On Changing Themes

On Changing Themes

Changing themes, I rustle leaves and try to help others
In Haiti and Japan and along the Mississippi flood plains,
But these are just words, on leaves, as the Bard did sing.
And unto the leaves, I sing, and barefootedly amble
Along fault lines and fault lines and fault lines
Where leaves will soon re-green and rustle, where
Earth meets the lowest realms of heaven,
Just above my blistered toes and below my heady themes.