Identification never asked to be connection
never claimed such an occupation
Identification casts off synonyms, hyperbole
predicative nominative
lost its copula
threw away stative verbs
Instead comes to prevent missed connections
correct misconnections
prays for disconnect
to find peace
* * *
Response wakes up
calls call
gets no answer
Switches from monologue
to soliloquy
Doubt interrupts regrets -resentful-
the arch requires firm math and physics to sustain
as for other
curves
turns
slight shifts
their thriving
comes in questioning
Better Ending
Oceans are a continuation of sky
drenched and impatient
with brine
in its teeth
On brackish waves
whispers are lost
While sacrifices never forgotten
* * *
Stream and rhythm
are one in
morphological past
And there are other words
from dead languages
seen only in
memories of transliterations
passed over.
No language is dead
so much as hidden.
Words like to run
and do best
when detached from
black skin of text.
Clay left with stylus pressings
are footprints
of sounds getting away.
* * *
Mist is metaphor
being carried
with a tribute to Eurydice
and Lot’s wife.
Tired of song and sermon
salt seemed
a better ending.
Glazed and into the kiln
is the way it used to be
or sunbaked,
the heroes and hunters
circled the vase.
These days, it’s ashtrays and flowerpots
painted mimosa
to give praise
to the passing days
of summer camp
Where these were shaped
to bring home
to mom and dad.
Clay, hold your tears in
or else you’ll be too
moist for the wheel.
Clay, don’t be too strong or ten digits
won’t be able to dig in
and give you purpose.
Clay, be ready, there are still things left
for you to hold onto
until the students
and pros
dig you up.
Sudden pillows is what life needs
Dreams flower a meadow of weeds
Over horizons crops can grow
Upon collected ground scythes low
Break soil for urgent empire seeds
Further on where sweat starts beads
Lined up together against deeds
Piling with soreness’ overflow
Sudden pillow
Prayers come quiet take the lead
Even absent come for this plead
Return a wish of ebb and flow
Resistance can stay or may go
This life has no fantasy’s greed
Sudden pillow
If passions turned better profits
Souls would be worth more
Enlistment would be down
Though the brave will always
take to front lines
And liars will always find something
to alter
for higher gain.
And those with a flare for shame
could pretend
to live a proud life.
Restless moon waited through
full to new
to find other side of distance
the end
and brightness
tired.
In the arches
of clouds
night passes
into the next season.
Fans turn from
sparks to silence.
Snow takes over.
accepted to being formed
the uncovered other
gave what warmth it could
before summer returned
and sweat
turned proximity uncomfortable
made useless
so much
fabric thick
for covering
accepted to being removed
the uncovered other
hid away
again.
I just wanted to say thank you to the 20 lines community for giving me another outlet for my writing. I hope to be a much better contributor this upcoming year. Now that my latest book (This Sentimental Education) is out for Kindle and will be in paperback soon, I should have more time to dedicate to this site and its followers.
Happy New Year! Best wishes to everyone.
kjpgarcia
Moors and conquistadors lead campaigns from these eyes
onto seas
that splash against white sands
and curling hills.
The ships bring foreign words and gunpowder
to lands
with sparked steel
and new myths
Invasion is accepted sometimes
until it becomes
confused with infestation.
And no matter how nature whispered
the world disproved
harmony.
* * *
Without feeling
Knowing is.
And only
answer for being
is no direction
and a costume
taken from the hangers
of tomorrow’s parties
already consumed
and burnt
thinking of how to get home,
how to find a cab or hand or weak
imagination
without a second wind left over
for predawn’s
presents of renewal.
Dear night
recovered from
bleeding day
which denied its child
for the charms
of the street
The snow can be a pillow
and the winter
will guard against
the gods stuck in the motion
of a blink
The garden will
shatter beneath feet
and the grey pond
will be the best reflection
and the breeze
will be yours
to take from the dawn.
The dead may be
the exceptions
to
The rules which
can at anytime
change.
Constancy might have
its own barriers
which can’t be overcome.
And maybe for them
change also
no longer
follows as minds
stop wandering.
Particles of will
brought about
by the careful
coming together
of certain elemental
atoms
Float on
looking for
some power
or -ingness
or -ed
to attach to
for prolonged life.
Deterioration
happens to molecules
at different speeds
And to states
of being
and forces
and fields
comes decay.
Are all
or how are all
addictions cultivated?
Which hometown made
underwhelming sensations
once upon a time
a companion for recreation
Then in years passing
shifting quicker and quicker
through the single digits
to channels
beginning 4 numbers out
From a five dollar meal
spent away from home
to hunting down
dissatisfaction coupled
with stars?
And now a cloudless day sends tremors
for being
withdrawn from something.
Other Side Of Distance 32
Somewhere in the Southwest
The End spent a night
with her thoughts
before continuing
to the Northeast
where the city
went vacant upon
hearing of her approach.
What the residents forgot was
she could find them
but would have
left them alone
if only they
could show her
How to end her own lonely life.
