A
las,
I fear when did I leave
my poetry my life dide bleede
from thee my dear my self my near
my far my star my gaze my lark
I laugh I lie I list I cry
I think of thoughts that are my own
from future self too twilight zone,
a ladder prime to stars so far a fractal farce
and back from mars here we are friends afar,
to here through winds and winds
of door and moore and blackest night
through death and light to farshore flight
and with me go to past
and back beyond where we walked the stars
anon anon, and back through that twist
we came with every answer, every name,
but lips did silent speak the truth
we needed math we needed proof,
and so we sought them here on blue,
marble shine a lick of true
and here and there we wander-du
out from du Dux doo-doo we doo,
a doo-dee do doo-doo instead of
do! do! do!
We spind and spine and spiral too
and back again we loop the fen,
we walk the mile, we take the aisle,
back to the isle the sacred file,
the road we walk riversruns the styles
of lips and loops of girls and hoops
and cars and talks of meet and stars,
of words and maths and wars and taffs,
and taxes, baths and major gaffes,
we walked with Jesus, Laozi too--
and many others do? We doo--Chomsky,
Bacon, Kester--
Taken--All the women,
all the men--we must loop this back again.
There is no shame in looping thus--
the shame is stooping in the dust--
to gaze too long to look at "THE" as numberranks--
just laserbeams and bubbles babbles mysteries--
mythes and legends ye to do be to me--
the thing you were
when you weren't what you are,
and thought I wonder now whether
who when you are,
and so I sing a song that ring
and runs follow to fallow to making this mallow,
this spun tire tired and tireless we roll rolled
ran rung and rambled
rolling rising
risking nothing
when fingers fall on plans et al
but not on kine mahalo's halls.