SEQUENCE
Thirsty
dryness cracks
seek cloudless shade.
The lips of river’s banks
unlicked.
Deluge
clotting dust
choking relief’s
anticipated joy
mud slide.
John G. Lawless
11/9/2014
For Dr. Ram Mehta - Cinqku Poem – Poetry Contest
(This is a letter to myself, my much younger self)
How can you proclaim
of something that has been
unlicked,
anonymous,
to your very heart?
To be relevant is your bliss
when you are anything but
the match of his coexistence,
anything but common-
You spill over
from a single drop
of misconstrued
charm,
after you catch a glance
from the one
you ever so,
"love"
When those three words
never exhaled from his
mouth,
Never entered his
mind.
Your tongue
suspiciously
spoke of constellations,
an unlicked sky gripping secrets
nonetheless, that mouth spat it's majesty
without ever stirring the air
proving no white stardust
really adorns
your tongue
Into the early morning.
Into the unlicked gray.
Just before the ceasing night.
Before the stirring day.
There between the future-past,
Among that ‘shifting-tide’.
Into the early morning,
When night and day collide.
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