Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Self portait upon hearing one's own voice

I read through my own
observations with the speed and precision
of joyless creation
unbending to the forms and figures
as if passing over miles and decades
of unending text unfurling behind
like a spool of delicate ribbon

there is little value in pointing
out how little value there is
in these said observations,
an obtuse echo,
a ringing in my ears
of a not altogether unpalatable
sound, but not exactly
one I clamor for.

words and picture by BCFL

Pura Esencia

Barreling aimlessly through eons of darkness
I’ve come to rest at your feet
With none other to offer
But measly shreds of condensed energy
Measured out in loud, labored breaths
And globules of shiny, white matter

All manner of talents
Equate to nothing
In the court of reality
And matter not to the high judges
In their flowing garments of
Credentials and opulent achievement

You, as an honorary member of this committee,
Find value in quiet,
In the scent of the moonlight
Reflected upon the choppy waves,
In the smell of the lowly
And chagrined nape of my neck
Where you deposit
Love and miraculous
Touch upon touch

words and picture by BCFL