. The Poet's Beat .

. The Poet's Beat .

Monday, August 20, 2018

Remember Me


This dear dear
promised child
held so near in my long ashen arms
country raised and keen eyes
ears
is all it needs to detect alarm
farm sharpened blade
sharpens the tongues of those who pray
those who lay with women twisted
and still in some manner are forgiven
driven to keep promises
made in shag carpet living rooms
push push breathe and push my Max from the black womb of his doom
watch the years burn down in pictures he kept in albums and tombs
exhume the fading memories of my enemy's cruel chivalry
from infancy to the grave
remember me

remember me

absolutely freed of all wild thoughts and deeds
learned notions of poison seed
he kisses me on the ear in my hangdog moment of need
the loyal kiss that rang true
and rang deep
the faithful dismissed to spend the rest of their miserable trip
with the rest of the sheep

this winter-woven child leaping from cliff to crag
where none have climbed
where none have seen
no witness of lover brought to life
no lover lost to misery
she weeps he weeps I weep
as the poet in his sandal-woven satchel speaks
I am the divinity
from here
as some say
to infinity.

TA

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