Wine Dark Sea

I.
deliberate
obfuscate
there was a time
but not today
its been more than twenty years
and don’t you know
that there are more meaningful reasons
dressing in the moonlight

II.
looking into the fold;
fingers fumbling with
fishing string mending a net
to toss into the
wine dark sea
my room is dark
my tea is black
my ship to shore
to wit; teaming
why don’t it just come to fruition
sing a lovely song to break
the silence or run the gamete
take me out of it

I used to think that I could understand anything
that was put in front of me
that genius was a given
and that magic
flowed from my heart’s heart
and I sat snidely on the outskirts
chiming in with a penny
and at quarter to four
drunk with zeitgeist
and yet still; liars come to lie
and yet still; believers come to believe
traced among the fraternal paths
I can neither start nor stop

III.
to where am I wading into
to what am I waiting for
no one ever changes their soul
they only save themselves with sentiment
landlocked in their fits; dreamt in passionate

I saw dawn once, before anyone in America was able to see it
with few exception, while still in country
enlightenment shaking its stick, nudging silent and willful
I resolved, man is simply the dumbest of all the animals
only we; want more than we need

IV.
a combination to take the subjectivity
and put it in a paper cup to drink
passivity that quenches the sadistic
combs the solitude
while attempting to sleep
following two lines to their center of the universe
or to at least the very edge of time and space
the cataclysmic happens
and true meridian and nautical miles compress
stanzas joyous of their hearth and bearings intersect
north by northwest, drift 7° - starboard
while the sun broke over the mountain top
falling slowly flowing gently a river of light
that eddies against the roving rocks
with shameful intimacy

V.
I decided that I didn’t know you anymore
to push off into the ocean and to search for the devil
to tear out every page of every book I have read
to rip and burn every page I had ever written
and walk out on the plank while the tempest swirling,
rampaging and the main sail shredding I would find
a chantey to memorize; a song I could return to myself

what then happened; I didn’t expect
I would turn the sail east to search for the mountains
no fears of the abominable or tears of the inconsolable
Odysseus was going mad and there was this girl, yet
paced wonderfully in its ruse, the bora brought me
I wandered around back to the Adriatic
shores…safe and sound

we had sunken and killed thousands
the Black Sea; the Aegean was drenched
sobered I could war no more
my bread was dusty, my canteen spoilt
sirens, harpies yeah, but Phineas played Sweet and Lovely
and I found myself back on St. Christopher Street
it was the first time I thought; I could be wrong

was it the harpies getting to me or Zorba’s santuri?
august ramped up and equilibrated I looked
west to the setting sun and when I reached
water’s edge I remembered that the
world is flat after all and I had better get used to it
or the best for the best; wasn’t I now forgotten?
as the undertow pulled the sand away underfoot




ШАМРО


August 4, 2007

© woundedlordliterature