Of course we are all lost.
We have been lost many
times before.
Off course, we all search.
We have been searching
for a long time.
We search
for some sense
but history proves
that this proves
nothing.
What we seek and search for,
time,
we will never have,
we can never touch or grasp or collect.
Still we suck at it like
an empty teat and
vanish right along with it.
.the point . the quest.
meets the dragons of the horizon.
Some drag that same
horizon around
like a brittle map.
Some scream in the square
at passers-by,
“Look! Here, where the
ocean meets the sky!
Here it is! I have found it!”
Some look away.
Some shuffle their feet on by
some loony preaching kingdoms
of lost treasures and flatness.
We know how these things go.
We’ve heard these stories before.
Zeno’s been there.
His fleet-footed friend
is never fast enough.
We hurry home, loose hopes
like flocks out to pasture,
and throw found prayers
at the forever locked and
stricken horizon.
our noses fall off for us
we the de-
and in-
spite of all faces
we are not particles
this particularity
this peculiarity is
yet
we spin in the same
spaceless circles
we cannot find our waste
precious time searches
for what cannot be found
without or within
(but) what does the searching
(we) must be who we are
Aren't we that which
makes us wonder?
Aren't we that wonder
which makes us?
Are we what
wonder makes?
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Hurrah! Love this – the form and the content.
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Thank you Julia– I spend a lot of time with lineation and spacing when I write like this, so I appreciate you saying that.
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The italicized section reads to me -or feels like- a cloud chamber. You are giving us the colored gasses to see the little bits of mystery that are and are not us in bursts of light. And then back into the etherea those bits go.
I love your poetry, JCC.
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Thank you so much Jeremy. That is a wonderful way of putting it. You make my poetry sound so damned sexy when you write about it. 😉
If I ever publish, I want you to write the blurb on the dust-jacket!
I love “colored gasses” The idea of seeing the world through “rose-colored gasses”? I might have to steal that line…
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I would love to write the dust-jacket comments!
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Jeremy nailed my response so ditto ditto ethereal ditto
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Thank you Mz Light–
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it may be curly, it may be wurly, but it is always toffee-caramel underneath the chocolate …
… sorry ‘a US version of the Curly Wurly, known as the Marathon Bar was available in the 1970s and 1980s.’ (Wikipedia)
a fine poessay
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Thank you Mark– I remember Marathons…
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