Her Secret is Patience

I can't convince myself that
I do not feel,
that the winds and the granite,
willows, marmot tracks,
or the sparrow
do not alight in my breath.
my beating coal-tried energetics
now tired, these stilled mistakes.
I am my own death,
over and over
the cells of my life-filled inebriation
take over, and kill kill
the opposition. This light is
brighter than sunrises or universal loves,
these hills that vanish into
the maw of mountains, hush me
into sleeping, into keeping
reverences private
and precious. the ocean
may have been the beginning,
but the rock, coral or calcium,
sulfur, iron wrecking
or obsidian; there is no fervor
quite like me standing green or gold
in the trees, listening
to the voices of miles.

Reviews

[Ed Hart]

their may be agony here, but it's not in the writing...like some guys got the gift of gab, you got the Muses in your hip pocket...you know that thing they say about if you meet the buddah, kill him...well, you better watch out...every second class poet in these parts will be out lookin' for you for sure....

[R J Askew]

I've been reading some of Eminem's latest lyrics, so getting a feel for patiently laced language which needs to be thought about a little and where the meaning is not trying to kill you in some way poses a question: which of the two writing styles do I prefer as a random reader. I am in awe of the vigour of the rap poets but it's rather like opening a blast furnace door, you don't stand there for long. But is patient, thoughful poetry viable in this desensitised age where to tweat is all? It was your final line which made me think of Eminem's film 8 Miles, which I have yet to watch. I fear that Eminem has the besting of us all.

[Emily B]

and truly the best of it in my heart is the last:

there is no fervor
quite like me standing green or gold
in the trees, listening
to the voices of miles.

another favorite

[Placenta]

this is beautiful. The imagery is gorgeous. And the vocabulary you use is marvelous. twenty thubs up :D