You Dream Of Opals
Legends of lichen
Occluded color of Gentian bluebells
The weathered fragrance love assumes
In the optimism of abundance
Or the airborne flight of
An empty carrier bag, light as milkweed
Given wing by the kisses of pilots
Who will not follow them
Out of what is true
II.
Galileo's nephews argued
Over the properties of night
Insistent on wind and the discretion of tides
Incidentals in the troubled country
Old as breath that slips from a schooner sail
III.
In perfect heat
The balloon drift of your imagination
Is drawn every afternoon into a bird less sky
With invitations taped to the mast
To stop and be welcomed
To be the sun
Unrelenting, but mild in thirst
And favorable mornings of fruit
Though we agree it was a journey of wrong turns
It still constitutes a journey
IV.
Of brazen honesty, your gift
Attributed to isolation
Or the stampedes of cumulus clouds
Which precede you
Blowing your name in mailbox sleep
So you can be loved for your unusual ways
V.
No awkward manners
Or unclear receptions
Hair resplendent
With the fragrance of ripe black olives
VI.
Against my lips
The inflammation of sunsets
A burning sky
Sanctuary to dream of an opal’s iridescence
Your eyes become a seasonal sky
VII.
Tiny pyramids line your pockets with a Pharaoh’s cry
Someone you worshipped from another time
Perfumed breath and charcoal silhouette
This is your enhanced heart
In Suspension
This is held
Rain falls flat
Adaptive nouns
To a lesser degree
Become puddles
Physics Disconnected
I.
You can bring this home with the notion
Of a free afternoon
Mornings leave you hammered
What flimsy
To vanish by blinking
Or travel through
Drifts of unanswered phone calls
The ground remains illusive
Parts company
After one sweeping rainstorm
Against the coast of California
Let Middle East suicide bombers
Invade your sleep
II.
Who stands in the doorway
How does he close himself
We know nothing about him
He sees us look at him
Hear him answer on the first ring
See him take the pulse of the street
He stands in the doorway
Free of weather or birds
Unsure if they were taken by war
Or lack of interest
His permanent shadow belongs to yesterday
Clings to him in twinges of unfortunate choices
The stuff of overdraft
Lawsuits the heart will wage for years
Without regard to winning
Lottery tickets tumble from his shirt pockets
His doorway on every block
An ingredient so simple
Tour buses stop and offload
The shadows of idle pedestrians
III
We hear him speak with our eyes closed
Cannot repeat what he says
Are left with an impression
Of a hand slap on our backs
We carry the weight of a human universe
Just as clouds pass
Whether it is day or night
Whether we sleep
Laying down or lean sideways in a doorway
Tulips Of Free Speech
I.
What goes before
Follows loss
Heaped behind a forward march
II.
If it weren't for the natural command of gravity
We would sit sentry on daylight
Throughout the night
Making emblematic talismans
That would keep us wise
III.
The women of our history
Are not interested in kitchens of the rich
Secrets are not kept there anymore
IV.
The sanguine moments
Of disregarded tempo
Create dance tunes for important evenings
You balance backward in your seat
Incapable of moving
V.
I will show you the tulips of free speech
I will edit you
Protect you
But that doesn’t mean I will understand you
VI.
You bear the confusion of the dictionary
Conversation wanders out the window
Into sweeps of compassion
Gentle acts of hydraulic closure
Once filled entire days
With petals of gratitude
Showered in acts of kindness
Always eating delicious food
It¹s a modern world
VII.
The grammatical curbs our sidewalk speech
Nearly every human contact
Is rejected
Out of a sense of failure
When we touch the roughness in our lives
The crime of complacent sighs
VIII.
Through all blindfolds
I walk where anyone has walked
There are no new streets
Except the ones I pave
The syncopation of a frugal life
IX.
This thing visits again
Morning is counted in three
While waiting for the light to change
Timed pulse
Of where you say you¹ll stop
The Fields Return To Fold Upon Darkness
What fear on our lips tomorrow?A balloon’s long path
--René Char
Trailing adjectives
Confusion of birds in flight
The levity of mirrors
The street is full of mirrors
You believe you see a clear corner
Before it fills with blown newspaper
The reaction of yesterday
You were the most handsome boy
Terse imaginations bear fruit
You had never met anyone
More amusing than the classics
What we know
We find in missed details
Shop windows reflect
A reconciliation of memories
You were the most handsome man
Not the richest or the most corrupt
Or the sexiest
Or the smartest
But more beautiful than
A vase over brimmed with my favorite flowers
Afraid to hasten their demise
I would never cut them
The eyes hold so little
Can not pull you closer
Or smell the heat as it leaves your skin
The fragrance of a favorite sweater
Days smolder into nights of boredom
Sun fills afternoon in an irritating way
Demands my full attention, nothing less
Fields return to fold upon darkness
Is in itself unreachable
Complicit with confidence
Daylight cannot
Let go of
As to hear you say my name
Again
Is only to fear
Another moonless night
Next - Larry Fontenot
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