Ceremonies of the Template
If I could comprehend the constant rhythm
slow breath
as if in one first soft impress
the indefatigable resolution
I embodied a warming tide
habitant in a miracle
extant of a souls immortal
upon these initiatory eyes
Such is the memory perpetual
of first days creation gave
with all the testaments of annunciation
lay tiny feet on tiny birth
and tiny hands upon mother earth
in celestial dust reanimate
I recalled of how this identification was
a ceremony of the template
Ritualistic Observance to Function
Vagabond I become now
wastrel nourished on glycerin lies
with intimidations ragged voodoo doll
in those weary eyes
acid blood a burning
on the gallows fear
and every wish a vitriol
denies I was ever here
Have I seen too much
enough celluloid to make it clear
molding the unseen plaster-cast
containing all the fractures of my life
a tiny phantom of some last laugh
a tiny instrument of the dirt
societies tourniquet overwhelms
sophisticated in its sense of scorn
A natural trait to destroy ourselves
is a credo we involuntarily learn
the executed face of death before they were even born
with no excuse but inequitable because
lay tiny feet on tiny birth
and tiny hands upon mother earth
in celestial dust did animate
I recall now how this conception was
a ceremony of the template
Copyright © Colin Mitchell Williams | Year Posted 2017
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