Tuesday, October 7, 2008

One Day, Everything would Fall

One day, everything
would
fall. Mangoes. Laundry from hangers.

Words on paper. Words on water. Words in stone.

Hair. Pearls from the sky. Words on deaf ears.
From mute clouds.
Daggers from stares.
Grandmothers down the stairs. Angels

People from buildings. Scraping the sky. Scratching space.

Snow in the Philippines. Fire in Siberia.

Okay, rain. Okay, tears. I. Out of love.

In love. Into you.

All over again. Or Never again.

For the first time.

Or the last.
Down.
Down.
Down. I. Asleep.

Into a coma.

Commas,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,

1 comment:

Seriffed said...

one day, everything will rise

saguaro cactuses stabbing skies,
pinning cumulus clouds in place

shoots from century-shamed trees,
forming arms instead of leaves

arms hugging moon
fiercely,
stirring storm into Fury

stares from eyes wide shut
cries from sewn shut lips

like dust from the pores
of weary skyscrapers

flying amok in the steady
flood of light

wings
where shoulder blades used to be

daggers from pin cushions
blood clot from deep lacerations

souls in resurrection
like sunshine ending
the reign of shadows

or Hope surviving
the deathly hallows

yes Hope, never-ending.

Desire on fire
in long hibernating hearts

weeds choking walls
of Hate

deeds, building walls
of Brotherhood and Faith

in Joy,
where none had ever really smiled

yes, Joy,
where none had ever really cried

oh, tears
and rain too
all falling into the sky

falling ever so freely like Love

oh, yes, Love

like poetry not needing words
lovers not choosing death

nations not going to war
or heroes turned villains
turned heroes

or i, praying

i, singing
with you,

tender sprigs from
the rubble of Nothingness

or winged wonders out of
the Dark Chrysalis

blooming fuchsia, tangerine, cerulean, vermilion,
puce, chartreuse

and by far, many a truce

bets
on this game
this Life

all Changes
and lucky stars
out of terrible quasars

you, unbowed
unrelenting

here with me
burning,
rising

like the Legendary Phoenix
out of the ashes of Disbelief,

of Grief,

or the little children in us
outgrowing blind obedience
becoming who we truly are

becoming Miracles

yes, us
like tides from
thirst-killed oceans,

like secrets,
or the unknown past bound by
scrolls from all the dead seas.

prophecies.

freed. free. at last.