le pendue
of my own actions
do breezes chill?
or out there, beyond horizons
do forces lay,
beings cosmic that create
from the skins of heaven
and bones of earth
the temperates
and poles
in collision.
I spoke yesterday.
said of things from within me.
a conjuror I was
an alchemist I was
and so like words they were,
attempting to change
the Barren to Indifferent.
but soon l was left abandoned.
lingering & hanging
in the court of your glances,
your world redeems
not enough it seems
my world in orbit, swaying.
perhaps there is a strange sainthood present,
a Purity, cleansed by a Clarity
so clear it remains unseen
within moments
- lurking, stalking -
waiting to ensnare the meanings
unsaid last night,
but anticipating tonight.
le pendue II
our rendezvous with language.
words lynched, suspended
knotted ropes of intent
now choking, spewing
the Grand Struggle
collapsing
and kicking
briefly in the air
finally giving over
to the gentle sway
limp
and undecided.
