The Moonlit Carousel
I. Partial Eclipse
The carousel broke loudly.
We made them laugh.
We made them love.
II. Total Eclipse
If you want passion:
The un-filtered wild joy of heaven and the sacred warming gold,
Seek no more:
Our afterlife is in the herelife,
An unsanctifying rim of coexistence,
A love unvarnished,
Uncleansed,
Sloppy like a junk-filled pick-up,
A warm, hard smile,
The soft, woven kiss,
The thoughtful eye-brow,
The tickle of a snowflake,
The fading pause of the ever un-thoughted pulse
And the fluid motion
We gave no name
In our readiness of love.
We sink to be.
We think to be.
So grow and glow and grow and glow again
In the round and round and round of the carousel we go
For a new moon has arrived
To be shone upon and ever spinning globe.
III. No Moon
The globe
The strobe
The harrowing roads
The blighted, borrowed souls
And I'm tired of poetry, moons, and everything bright.
I wish for a damp cold firmament
In hushing grace with whispering goats and snoring lambs
Where nothing sneezes and nothing aches.
Just the dream-time manger and tired eyes.
The glaze of these images is all I dream for now
As I trek and breathe through wire and meshing
Fighting self against selflessness,
Finding all is greed, the chemical survival,
And love is a feeling we invented to save ourselves.
We will point to the light
But few walk towards it.
We just show others
Where this silent plume pours outward
Into an endless beaming flood
alit pain and confusion,
A solid rigid ray
As in the absolute fixity of text on stone,
The stone plain and sad, like a tumor on the ground.
Kick it and be sore.
Love it and stay forever.
The carousel broke loudly.
It breaks everyday.
Whether or not we leave or stay.
Love or stray.
Copyright © Matt Caliri | Year Posted 2007
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