Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Kit Kelen #697 - the words

the words

some words were looking for me
I hadn't heard, I knew

they persisted
just had to be had

I'd gone into hiding
they'd come to haunt me

hard words with a mellow lilt
they were only the hope of a rhyme

I'd put the hours back into the clock
but those bastards were coming for me

floaters, phantoms, echoes all
I saw them cross the ceiling after
without my glasses on

the jokey ones and puns protest

I was on the pot achieving
when the lightning struck
it could have happened mid-fuck too
deflating scribble all in your head
'you have to get this down'
dull thud

come up the driveway
and one held the book
it was as if they were God's

so full of smug confidence
like in the beginning
you could see they were up for an argument

those bastards were coming for me
wouldn't stop at the letterbox
said they just wanted to shoot the breeze

I could imagine them brought by angels
in banners you see right through
just a chinwag
you don't want the Book of Job

the archaeology of me
all skin is shallow to

bie bagua -- you'd say in Chinese
don't gossip
or guan le mesi --
mind your own business, butt out
no way

they followed me up the stairs like groupies
like magpies in season aim for your head
hung out on a corner, waiting to score

these words were rats in the wall, sleep's enemies
like snakes, they begged for lawn to mow

trust me, they'd come for every occasion

I was parked on my magic rug, the red
blank mind, blank heart

they were speaking to me underwater
just bubble at a time

some claimed truth
some held hope
some locked up the heart in a feathery boa
and some would whimper whisper
blue as a sky
they'd come for 'soul'

some of these words were with a tune
tumble in a heap and hours
never come out dry

but always always intimate
best friends, heart throbs
all long lost
begging to lie between covers

and who could see the big rabbit with me?
but down bright streets we'd go

days without my pills
they'll come
it's like collecting tax

once I built a temple to them
now where will I go?

I totter off into a forest of them
it's dark but sunlit wings construe
they lead me to a secret cell
where already I'm interred

you expect a well lit mind
cheer to the echo in there

they're trying to make sense of
bully, cajole
they'd like to freak me
leave something rancid on my lips
like I've been eating a dead thing

it's not that they ever said so much
but I knew from the pleading looks
they needed me
needed me!
to put them together

Shakespeare's words and the words from the Bible
and they needed me!

something smaller than itch
an ache's width, so many letters
and scrabble after as well
cryptic as signs augmenting event
it might have just been that

I was on my way to the poem
(a funny thing happened)
they pulled me up for crimes against immortality
decided to open the boot

always a tough one
always a soft
I was going from where to where?

why did I carry all this equipment?
sooner or later the names would spill
we could do this the easy way

they had come to me for fire

now I follow a trail of blood through the snow

so I'm a language all myself
and here's my world fence flat
let's have a stumble through, shall we?
we can still get away from these words

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