Ligature -- The Fatted Calf

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Subject: Ligature

Author:
T.R. Jones

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Date Posted: 09:58:53 12/14/00 Thu
Author Host/IP: host-209-214-106-220.bhm.bellsouth.net/209.214.106.220

Ligature

The sensuous lines drawn tight, ligature
Sunrise bleeding on other horizons
Voice faded to echoes howling
These aren't my eyes
My filters gone
Mother Son
Moon Sun
Out of balance melodramatic harmonics
The fan whirs
Cars drive by
Machine teeth
The machinations of the mind devouring
Childhood godhoods
With dry mouths of watchdogs sleeping
Their dream feet
Always taking them home again
Paper's undulation
Pen pricking white seas
Drawing ink blood
The only comfort
The only balm of Gilead
Knowing my limitations, lamentations
Reorganizing shards of shattered desert mirror glass
Reflecting all but nothing
My face and body
Mosaic Picasso likeness
Contorting around my world
Taken by mumbling Megiddos
The Horsemen are nigh!
Galloping breath on the back of my neck
Crawling to the base of the spine
To sleep until night curls fetal
Between thighs that fall like Jericho
The flower grows from the dank darkness
Drawing water from streams flooded
Then evaporated
Becoming lotuses
In the confines of slip of sound vibration
Sigh
Jail cell memory
Open the doors
And the light will fall
Nuclear white
The shadow there to embrace
But what mask is this?
Behind the face
Under the skin
Blood vessel, sinew, bone
I cannot recognize this strange apparition
As one of my own flesh
The magic in deep brown eyes
Fading into table tripping parlor games
Inter dialogues speak volumes.

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