Sad Eyed Lyricist


I’ve spotted it with tears
(I pronounced to all my living verse)
Your infant faces are proof of it
The crumbled years, the kissed cheeks
White as snow, red as apples
The harmonics of a life enriched

By syllables of madness
And lyrics of precious nothingness
I’ve ennobled my life with paragraphs

(Children of the mind of earth)
My Brethren, my secret commonwealth
I am a barefoot citizen

To the small ransomed symbols
I have shuffled and caressed
I’ve spotted them with my tears

These napkin poems, these torn clothes
To say that I lived, if in a House
A recluse by the side of the road

With old-fashioned dawn treading
Eyes, glistening hidden in stanzas
Rich as a vocabulary easy to surprise

(As Meek as murmured half-broken revelry)
My life was a whispering of pageant-magic
Sweet you forget – but I remember

The love-sick years, the beggar’s muse
It was the music on which
I based my life’s chief industry

Lost as an anonymous vowel
In the noise of the Maker and his hoard
(This is all I am, such is my brief Finitude!)

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