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Wood and Severed Heads
Folder:
2020 Gad Zooks II.
It was a morning of sorts
Made of wood and
Severed heads.
They'd walked along the canal
That night and spoke
Of witches’ tales and
Genealogical unveilings,
That he was son of a Jew
Living in silence of his birthright,
Heads rolling and a
Crucifix attached to stone walls.
The day at noon couldn’t compare,
So they made love
To ease the pain.
Why did you reach out then
Speaking of your lost maturity?
Why did you break
Your silence?
Hearing a deeper thought than your own
It manifested and malignified
In your heart to
Bring the disconnected head
Down to the air around your life.
Speak, do it and frighten it off.
Sonorously, the echoes of the caravan
Vibrate so intensely
You organize in shame,
And disappear again above the canal
Bobbing w corpses and body bags,
deep depravity knows deep despair,
To keep yourself alive-feelings,
Stubbed life, on the corner of failure,
Heaped in piles of excrement.
It was a morning
Of severed heads
And wood.
This next I have posted already but may have been edited I found these two poems i must have written together.
I.
Manure on the highway
Out of time and flattened
Seeping up through the concrete
Not meant to be there
A veil, a hidden era to penetrate
Out of time, out of sequence
Out of touch
With life.
The solidifier of time, life.
Her roots, back thru the concrete,
Corroded his tenure on living
And he conceded to her,
Crumbled and aged in the midst
Of ruin
Sepia veiled
Rubber grooved, tired.
Going on was not an option
Staying still was not the plan
But tethered in the dystrophy
Was not a hopeful place
The bones ached with displeasure
The eyes watered with weeping
Birdlike the hobbled man
Sat.
Age and temperament
Cannot be discussed
Cannot be reasoned
Hatred deeply seeping
No resolve no resolve
Hatred bleeding
All the good
From your heart
The section designated II,
The section designated II, but first in the vertical placement, is very, very eerie. A huge backstory is implied between the lines, and makes me want to read more, as sequel or prequel, that leads from, or up to, this initial poem.
Starward
You are Kind
You are so kind in your critiques to me. A kind way to say I am not quite getting this, l want to read something before or after. I think I am intending this as a long poem and this is a chapter. I found this in a notebook and wanted to save it because, true I do have a back story developing. I read this poem to my lover and I could tell he was searching for a WTF statement what does it mean. So I pulled out my Well Susan Sontag says in her essay...blah blah content over blah blah blah We laughed cuz right now its just some eerie words and I don't really rememeber what Susan Sontag said...You always get to the point of my work in your comments and I am pleased and honored when you read and leave me a note. I will work on the backstory.