hapiness poem (random hu(man)

by rain70

Posted to Poetry on 2003-12-08 10:30:00

My occluded soul, I need
No more. This fool

Is furnished slippers,
The soles are only thinly

Glance of cloth, hardly
Pupils of dance; see

The eyes seeing
The eyes? Amazement

Is a rough noun and
Is always silent. I can

Hear my body everywhere.
Earth is a difficult

Image to mirror, our
Mutual legs taking

Centuries of shock
Afloat the clarity of death.

I want that, that
Hunt, that transparency

Of distinction, that
Black lace of laughter

That self-inflicted
‘Wild-with-it’, that

Leading off
In the middle of

Fable down acclaimed
Machine of road, down

To dawn and it’s
Dignified fears

Down to the life
Where skeletons

Are soft sweets
In the next room

Waiting like doorways
For the happy guilty

To fumble cheap
Jokes and ask to be

Made into mirth,
Altogether something new

A trickle of elsewhere, a
Clean line of tear into cup.





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