I
the piano plays,
cries out,
soothes and crushes
as the strings roll alongside the keys
softly

I swallow failure
in the blackwhite form
of aural emptiness,
and a murky brook of poetic soul yearning

change

you may sing the words
of your prescription
as you strike me
with imploring fists
but still, our soulnutrition
is there starving inside of us

II
the old path,
this twisted-metal forest
of dollars
and shimmering things
leaves you cursing,
yelling all the way down
into the bowels of this hollow machine

play carefully for survival;
the instruments
are your raw-fingered hands

live unheeded,
disappeared into the woods of your words,
away from the pollution of false-needs

change your life

feed from the bold uniqueness
of dreams

III
a pile of
pages we despise and love

swept away
they will burn
and we will mourn

hear the lonely background violin,
gaze into the focal piercing eyes
of the majestic sculpture of him or her

those eyes
they draw you across strings,
pull you away
from the pianoman's dexterous hands

defenseless you stare
as steadily (through you in waves)
love sings sublime survival
and it, too, in this poetry of noise
is your wandering instrument

11/26/2004

Author's Note: Please check out my new book! ;)>

Posted on 11/26/2004
Copyright © 2024 Tom Goss