Short Bruit Poems

M-ix not things up, 
I-n a fight or dispute; 
L-et all be in order, 
A-llow not the brawl or bruit.

B-oisterous bluster and blare
R-uin the serenity; 
A-im not to utter clamor, 
C-all not attention raucously.
E-ngage not in contest, 
R-age or anger must stop, 
O-n the fifth of September, mix not things up....

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When life is full in my throat,
I pray with an embryonic want.

I hear the needs
of the innocent and dragons,
they do not seem
so different to me.

The plaintive calls of the lost,
the tigers panting bruit
are not so different.

I am what the egg wants.
I want a pulsating engine
that crashes through the tangle
of this worlds face.

I want a hammer-bright orison
to challenge with a shell-breaking voice....

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At night, when the moon
in my throat is full,
I listen - an embryo want
in my own nest.

I hear the needs
of worms and dragons.
They do not seem
different to me.

The hunting calls of angels,
the tigers panting bruit
does not seem dissimilar.

I am what the egg wants.
I want a spirit that crashes through
the ever changing face
of this world.

I want the shell-breaking desire
of all fledgling gods....

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C-omplete silence is deafening, 
O-nce it reaches your ears; 
R-oar runs away from you, 
A-s the loud noise disappears.
Z-one of complete silence 
O-bliterates the bruit; 
N-either blare nor bluster breaks the quiet mute.

C-omplete silence of the mind
R-emains in meditation; 
I-t lets the deepest thinking
Z-ealously do the contemplation.
A-llow the stillness to show, 
L-et it make some better sense; 
D-ay twenty-four of September, 
O-pen your heart in complete silence....

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