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Joe Kidd Poem
I Shall Write To You In My Sleep
I shall write to you in my sleep
while others sleep, I shall sing to you
read to you from a wrinkled parchment
fading behind my tired eyes
It is unusual that you lie alone
while letters fall from an open sky
a man driving home, a countryside
the limits of a city where futures hide
There is the church, I will leave you there
remove your hat, your coat, your shoes
take off your clothes to hold a thought
your secrets held beneath the cotton
This event of strings, eventually
this giveaway, a silent chord
if I awaken not on the 'morrow's morn
yet tonight I roam the unmeasured mile
I shall write to you in my sleep
Copyright © Joe Kidd | Year Posted 2020
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Details |
Joe Kidd Poem
What Do Poets Do
what do poets do
when they rise up in the light of morning
from the floor of the sanctuary of illusion
and wipe with a coat sleeve an open wound
from which the life of history drains
and shake the sweat of saturation
from behind a brow, a paper wall
when they observe a movement in a distance
the invected curve of the firmament
vaccinated, yet to be unmasked
by the touch of a human hand or kiss
upon a forehead, a screen of vision
a set of clothes that steals the mood
and the loathing of a task undone
a world once shared and shared again
the poet comes to name the beast
but first a call for the chalice priest
the day is long, and suffering longer
a corner to rest, to be alone
all we need is the haloed moon
as a loving companion
when we do those things
that poets do
Copyright © Joe Kidd | Year Posted 2021
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