One, that they both are action verbs grey in inaction, nothing in traction and too little thought is given to the song you sing sauntering along the beaten path that it ebbs and flows, with no preset direction.
Two, is that they are two, be it on ceramic tiles, locked inside a waltz, or spinning out into the green grass bullets atop the wars of earthworms, beneath the peace of stars.
Three: heart, body and brain are flickering constantly, though stone may be the face. Do yours not? Call yourself imprisoned when love and hate their tails untangle and thoughts no longer torpedo across the fluttering page.
After this, is that these things weigh much lighter on your skin than on paper much brighter on your days which meander sideways steeped in soil, smelling and scenting much more on the way, with more on the way.
Five – remember how the fingers of your hand tremble with all the joy and terror of being lifted off the land.
Six, is that the world will never carry you; it was not built for you, it was not built at all.
Seven, is that heaven is a dog because she lives in the same time as you because he breathes in the same air as you because they will match their step with you, and are good for that reason enough.
Last is the dappling shade of the leaves, of people swimming through evening walks groping the wind for conviction; they are Living and Dying together with light receding and rippling out of your sight.
Congratulations on making it to 30 Liminality!! I enjoyed reading your poetry this month & being your NaPo Buddy, you've got such a great handle on poetic form & flow. I like the idea of ending a collection with a poem themed on "life & death" and I think the list form really worked for this piece, especially in the points where you made good use of repetition - I liked stanza 3 in particular. It's also neat to see poem 29's free-verse & mondo version and the little changes you made here and there. Thanks for sharing all of your poetry (I will definitely be returning to your thread the next time I want to look for a fun new poetry form to try out)!
you should know i am a time traveler & there is no season as achingly temporary as now
"would you still love me if i was a worm"
yeah babe i would AND id get you your own compost bin so we could enter gardening competitions together — Corvid
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