(this poem on that) Written At Wooden Tables)

Rain carries them on the path anymore it won't & will already be
From me glory glows streams awash'd & entangl'd insights would fill
(up rivers brightest)
I will do so fly at fairest better than so... Say, you & me see.
Until the dawn is too late
There was a-lark of Fall & restless hats ;
The blue sea turns words
Like clocks what were all right forms kindly arises renew'd passes
Hangin' out onto there a-blank wall someplace weeps
(I'm up & goin' around again)
Standin' in the hallways or joys always towards ;
New & free watch-bands feels still a-begotten long cases slows as facets & leaves above
Goes thru understands incompletely.
Gets abouts really lost outta holes a-blank wall to be
Blues goes by in a-cloud broke
Everyone's to wishes or to wells we are
Do you see what I see
Clears them shoes crawls awaits at morning
Is no reason at all
Whenceforth flowers everso matters
Outta light that rivers
(meetin' of open air)
Broken off splits apart been completely seen swells dark grown
Wine redeems lookin' bloomin' how ironic gettin' closer than ever-so
It's beyond me & my mind a-great thing
Bells ringin' out hallow'd square here it goes
Echoes lights yellow switches ;
(around thunder collaps'd)
Repeats left'd loose underneath begins clear has made thee
I lean'd into it ; Too far, not too far
Still yet stays on & spins together
Lets us gets us to know what is this abouts in weepin' gone just so
A-wishin' well for a-cloud as to be thou
Tried again picks up again my tips,
Me self helps to go in baggages & hand holds by & by upon flashes
Projects sound across to these bridges ;
But like a-flower goin' into a-deep blue vase
Need'd its essence whence-by for now is different.
I know love & the ways are too soon truly hears it near
(a-drink to grow-up on)
Without & anyhow felt'd bright
Colourfully & eruptly adds to the show freedom includes choice ;
(It light up my eyes)
Mornings onwards lonesome star lights
Almost always journeys off the blinds cool grand
Into the night sent without shadows walk'd
Look'd what's that somewheres else
Who knows ; When moon should shine both thru us
Flashes of lightnin' down reflects & beats upon backs as is
Undone against awhile askin' aimlessly inside there
Why amongst stuff better
The T.V. litters me not-so. If; Of today & what's no-more
In colours forever ado now B&W stops so wishes paint'd
(in the phrase caresses)
A-shady tree a-fan left'd down soon
Stands up there-on into the center of this speakin' now & then;
Heavenly gentle breezes drops meanin' is feelin' alike ; Hey! So, flow
Special; What? Anymore to be
Services words covers to me so sweet yet
Outwards climbin' escapes rooftop
Colourful birds of strange tales at all shouts!
(speakin' shoulders)
Some push on roads we beholds torn off thoughts awaits sure
Do wanders around again ;
The red-greens over rose-bud had float'd up coverin' right in-thru
Dark spots abouts turns out & distances disappears & releases
Don't I know it catches & thus to sunsets, sunrises
(aren't they beautiful)
Fireballs flew by cards blew asides alongsides you
Doubles across beams as Spring's dreamin' in winds wet
Two yellow ribbons & petals dry my wells again
Has stories
Uncomfortable
My insides there;
Still has courses down instead it now
Back to life
The storms are outta here
The other ways will embrace flowers
But not scrapbook on the ground
To remove titles
(this poem on that)
Written at wooden tables
As thousands I am readin' by the dusty brown boxes
(starts up & slows down)
Unfinishes bread alone
Just free findin' early how thy round glasses flew ;
Hard & brown like-wise to earth amazes
Rain carries them on the paths
Many more may do always
Wants to open tomorrows days
We here as sheets hot
In a-beat beautiful
(until dawn is too late)
There was a-lark of Fall into restless hats ;
The blue sea turns, words, space.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I like black and white tv and films...more imagination...but I always see life as gray more than black and white.
I really like this poem, it's a journey. I am surprised that it could get so many views but not one comment.
I find it rather a mix of William Carlos Williams and Walt Whitman.
the nature metaphors are so cool, and the descriptions of nature mixed in to create that idea
of how we spawn poems...and how abstract our ideas and emotions can become when we put them down as poetry.
j.