Friday, October 23, 2009

Poetry Year October 22

What are you waiting for?
For what, for what?
For what calling scream in the middle of the night,
the crash of glass and metal in the soul,
that upends and flattens all delusions of a working life.

What are you looking for?
For someone you, even though, you do not know who?
For what is this longing,
to stand a top the city's highest tower,
and spread your arms to tip forward,
falling into flying,
as the stuff that fantasy is made of.

To where are you going, to where? And how?
What locations beyond the edges of faded maps,
in between the navigator's gaps,
where glowing white is not an empty space,
but a somewhere, with it's own sense of place.

Catch me, I am falling, free fall, free flight,
the windows racing by,
the wind rushing up to cushion this streak,
from high in the air,
towards a destiny below,
where all and everything
a moment, for a moment, only a moment,

Coiled in agony,
boiled in ecstasy,
shattered and flattened,
my body pulled to languid end.

I wake, and am warm in your arms,
and you are warm inside me,
and like a body that from tower tossed,
I lie here, looking, upward, at the your beautiful stars.

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