Short Corpuscles Poems

Each & every one of us remembers
History differently.

It's more an individual experience
Than we realise.

                     Always trying to forget,
Or force it to submit.

Sometimes every street we've ever been
Down,    is sewn into corpuscles,
Vein, membrane;

Often we're just stupid.
Uneasy dreamers that gave the unconcious production
Of self movies away, freely,

To the pretenders.

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…reptiles and birds,
how one became the other.

Birds in the New World
screech more than they sing,
most still vocalize
through a lizard brain –
small dinosaurs perched on 
dendritic branches of time.

Consider how air and blood
distilled hollow bones
brewed red corpuscles
into primal feathers.

When the moon is full in my throat,
I want what the ancient egg wants.
The bruiting call,
the echoing scream,
a becoming 
in the unleavened light....

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Whiiiissssper! 

Listen to the murmurs of the Robins
That wake morning from its nest;
Listen to the murmuring breaths of the trees
That fan away the summer heat.

Listen to the whispers of the corpuscles
That try to tell the hearts their secrets;
Listen to the whispers of a lost wren
Whose voice is soft and gentle.

Listen to the seas whisper their lyrics
And the skies, their Haiku.
Listen to the whispers of the tall mountains
And the  far away tulips' hills.

Whisper!...

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