maybe i should reinvent my palette
by sparklejames
Posted to Action Poetry on 2001-03-23 13:53:00
maybe I should reinvent my palette, throw in the old tired washed out grainy hues for some of higher vibrancy and greater relevance, entirely replace the current language with a stripped and honed straight direct form, less rambling and more accuracy, then to spare my wheezing and store up wasted breath for more constructive means, but then I would arouse my remembering self and realise that this is the only way I know, and to soothe and nurture and swoon and excite is my choice and force and reason and therefore reason enough, I need to continue and develop these unwound words, to arrange them in such patterns that they provide a comfort or nourishment or truth to the recipient, who is my inhaling reader anyway, initially just myself and with too harsh a censorship, not enough purity and naked fear, when the nights are so murky and clouded over, the honesty is harder to encourage, I always miss the halos of my moon friend glow and wonderer, especially when the sky is draped in glazed tears of the bright childÂ’s virtue, when my own eyes are squinting through moisture and misunderstanding, only the moonÂ’s late shine can bring this clarity to realign into mine, and so in absence of our treasured guides we must seek our own direction, speak in attempts at our own perfection and then bask in the collapse of incomprehension around us, this searching for new ways and new connections I allude to is of course that which we all crave and reach out our bloodied singing fibres for, the reaffirmation of our humanness and the acclaim in strange realms of our soft caress, we need to know our influence is good and plentiful of harvest, and to affect another so is the meaning of me and the revealing of another identity of which I can be proud, and then to the echoes and the fluttering of nearby awakers, the spread of the tremor carries far beyond the messenger and carrier, out beyond preordained barriers, we can surpass, penetrate and burn through, we can carry multitude delights even in the lowest lights, and do not fade because youÂ’re told to or evade because youÂ’re cold for sympathy, sling fiery onward and raid the back corners of your collected inner immersions, scrape out and redefine every sinew fallen blind, each last molecule has a fingerprint of you to savour, an element of one of your many emotional mythical flavours, keeps the hymns warm enough to send you bravely into sleep, treat the visions tenderly and slip them into your favourite pockets for forthcoming inspiration, and of all, just be you and feel your dark ghosts tremble in the calm of detached senses, they show your path and know well your footsteps…