Sunday, February 26, 2017

Eleventh Poem (Black as Night)

It’s all coming back so clearly.
This is what I am meant to do.
I know it like I know nothing else.

The words are friends and paramours.
Sentences like boa constrictors wrap around me till oxygen becomes my halo.
I must dig deep as my toes smash into the silt and sadness of joy.

Sex was never at my command not like the art of creation and the creation of God.
Love an elusive shadow I wax poetic about when losing sight of obedience.
You always understood where I was at even when this hermit crab was distant like the ringing of cathedral bells.

It’s all here for the taking once you unclench your fists and learn to love from within.
Dreamscapes freeze me out of my own reality as I get on the bus and ride blindfolded through my night terrors.
I will lay this poem down and then I will rest like a koala or harlequin.

Charles Cicirella

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