The poem ends.
Planets shift through the width of a word
shattering suns across time.
Symbols scratched on broken glass
Truths are spoken and surfaces collapse
into ragged voids of falling.
Now is the hollow man
stuffed with straw, fool’s bells in his head,
borrowed smiles stitched to his mouth
and an ice pick in his heart.
For a moment he was song,
a poem for all seasons and
a naked hero
littering his quest with cast-off armor.
For one sweet breath he parted clouds
on home made wings,
consumed in fire, burning as he fell.
But it’s winter now, and night.
Spring and dawn are written out
of this play,
Icarus has the leading part
but falls again and again.
The music plays on and
The music plays on, but only
echoing silence breaks through to
more echoing silence
and the owl,
and the voices of wolves
tearing the night’s peace
into regurgitated shreds.
Yet still my muse
offers branches of light…
“Lord I just can’t keep from crying sometimes,
Lord I just can’t keep from crying sometimes,
When my heart is full of sorrow
And my eyes are filled with tears
Lord I just can’t keep from crying sometimes”.
Poem and drawing by clinock. Drawing: Pastel and conte on paper. 8″ x 10″. 2013. Click on image for more detail.
I Just Can’t Keep From Crying – Old American blues – Blind Willie Johnson.