................................................................................................
The Poetry Of...
Ernest Williamson III..........
NOT ESPECIALLY SPECIAL
I found Special asleep
in the wake of a dead man's rest
lying face down
back arched hands folded over a yellow birdcage
the floor was covered in blood
the voice of Sammy Davis Jr. singing Mr. Bo jangles
emanating from the four corners of the room
filled my cold trembling hands
which were pale as Pegasus yet free
of evidence
bloodless hands
but evidence of what kind
since the dawn of embracing self-hood clangors
on the headpiece everyday
every second
as the red tape in bureaucracies cry
for a different slice of selfish boredom
I find thousands of poets freezing
in the middle of the summer
longing to make malleable the unyielding tendency
to be comfortable
not with the sight of Special dead before our eyes
but
content with the discontent of knowing
the culprit
major little white lies.
WHAT OF THE CEDAR TREES
there was no lament in the dour Cedar trees
in the corner I was upright like the lives in
Katrina's droning leveling flesh but mystified by the
spirit of resplendent hands holding on to future bonds
with no regard for stocks in residual condonement
but back to the Cedar trees
these two worn 200 year old bodies
showing with no regard for shame its stains
its diaries of exposition for men and women to ignore
and explore
though I see the trees as few may see them
I am no child and wonderment evades the man who evades
the spores of initiation
that high pitched blooming eye loving the trees
but yet not knowing them
at least as I say to know them
WHEN LOVE
OUTSMARTS A MAN
upon the horizon of the first quarter moon
your depth of character quiets my eyes
their now holy tambourines mesmerized in ovum
my way is an old poem
trite doggerel yet there
in mind in mourning in shock
why did I consider it good
beneath the moment before seeing your face
was a strata of flesh
bouncing from city to rustic place
unaware of the nutrition emanating
from your words defaced yet branded
in my reception
perhaps I'm wrong to attempt to court you
since you have yet to accept my shyness
in asking may I
while you interrupt me and smile while saying
I know what you are going to speak
in the beginning
and in the end
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