Monthly Archives: December 2014

i pass through the hourglass, relative to you

Poetry

warm bronze momentum, the dance
                   a mindless passage through the narrows of a glass world
an hourglass – blown into shape by the creep of evolution
a cradle for fragile eggshell minds; but spirits of the dead still enter
                   to brace against the unexpected of everything that is expected

every person’s fabric stitched together in a day, by thin strands of relationship
the constructs are formed so delicate, that they can unravel at any moment
                   ephemeral but to be placed under the rock – the rock of ritual

the rock is pulverized into sand by the wave, and curved glass distorts vision
                   pressed against the cold barrier, you come face to face with life’s futility
to perceive as forever, to create new realities through a mind that loves and hates
                   the damage that is done
                   how do we once again, feel our planet’s rhythm?

familiar repetition delivers false hope – an unrealistic comfort, a tropical panacea
einstein’s equations are full of black holes
the gravity slave must be constantly turned over, again and again by vigilant hands
                   we pass from one globe to another
                   to stand alone among the others
                   a measure, of that which is relative

relative? relative to what? relative to me, relative to you
                   the relativity of me to you and the sunset
                   bleeding fire through the glass
we pass the day, traveling back and forth through the neck of our own construct

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summer sleeps

Poetry

published on VerseWrights 01/21/15

on cold gray water
ducks
,unable to create,
sleep
with their beaks
under wings

broken trees
moss and
the dried blood
at night
when the houses
become silent
and flashing
windows go dark

children are
disciplined
in the ways of
the choking deer

eternal winter

remember
eastern woodlands
brown
two hearts
in silence

in the meadow
a singular
sea of
dead leaves
rusting cars,
that dream
into the ground

of ancient people
carburetors
and summer eves

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choking on public safety

Poetry

published on VerseWrights 03/22/15

“I can’t breathe!” Eric Garner’s final 33 words 07/17/14

as long as the police,
are permitted
to police the police

a grand slurry
district attorney
– makes with police
much like family

the police
– the enforcement arm
of the power structure

the golden arm,
the arm
that can do no wrong

the strong arm
the confiscating arm
the escalating arm
the arm in search of
a loosy in the sky

the arm that chokes

the arm that snatches,
institutional murder
from the scales
of lady justice

lead and brutality
for the black man
lead and brutality
for the black man

violent state
secret proceedings
from the sham jury
the state’s enabler
– the district attorney
; renders unaccountable
blue sleeve homicide
of the golden arm

Digiprove sealCopyright secured by Digiprove © 2014 V Perrotti