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Black Magic
by zed Saturday, Jun 10 2017, 1:51pm
international / poetry / post

another poem refuses to allow me sleep
until expressed -- ‘so tired, tired of
waiting ... for you'

the single red rose on my mantle
explodes in exquisite, voluptuous furls
reminding me of something gained and lost
but then everything on this plane is
transitory -- why lament the fleeting?

‘i believe if i fall in .... with you it would
last forever’ -- indeed it would, but not the ‘you’
only the Love

a struck piano key reverberates
i listen until i hear it no more
though i know it continues
forever

some things in the transitory endure forever
sound/word scratches a record of a presence/movement
long forgotten but recorded in the ether

it is the overlapping of pluralities into singularity
tho few are able to appreciate how the one expresses itself
in a multifarious universe -- the many and one are the same
tho transmitting that reality coherently is beyond language to express

'500 miles, 500 miles ... away from home'

‘be still and know that i am ...’
it is true the only sentence of real truth in the bible,
another record of feeble scratches that few are able to understand

tho, ‘i am THAT . ..', there isn’t a need for another, ‘i am’
the most succinct linguistic declaration of truth

Fibonacci expressed it in numbers
those ever-present infinite spirals of nature
but why the need of numbers/language
as intuition delivers the entire story?
a-lone, al(l)-one becomes another example

‘hey, hey paula, i’ve been waiting for you ...’
this poem is fraught with interruptions,
old song lyrics intervening as tho relevant

but who am i to judge or interrupt the process?
every attempt is overwhelmed by the inevitable
and so i have learned to be at peace

i strike another note on the piano/keyboard
and listen
this one endures a little longer before it fades
from human sense tho it too
‘will last forever ...’

‘that ol’ black magic ...’
in its spell, whirling/dancing with an interrupted poem
but that is how it was meant to be

'in a spin, lovin' that spin i'm in ...'

so good night my Loves,
sweet dreams

'round, round, round, i go ...
that old black magic called, love'



 
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