The Mending Shards

"Mending of the Shards !"




- 1 -


"i wrote my heart upon a river ,
then i watched the river run ;
every word a yellow sliver
from the manic silent sun .

Every sliver was a vein ...
& each drop was blue & bloody ;
all that mending of the rain
had left me with a healing body .

In waves of light our "names" are spelled .
Then ... a cloud rolled over me ;
without the body i had held ...
i flowed unwritten to the Sea !"




- 2 -


"i've written down my heart in earth ,
& thought to build my love on rock ...
now i feel what seeds are worth
in seasons of the unstilled clock ;

i don't beleaf the stones are dead .
Real water can't be "purified" .
When my heart's final gravure's read ...
i'll properly be petrified .

New poetry is baby-talk ;
as yet ... unwedded to the tongue .
On virgin dust i sign my walk ...
as earth in greening-stone is sung !"




- 3 -


"i'd write my heart in air ,
in letters of the wind on leaves ;
My name could be a prayer ,
for a feathered million tiny lives !

i'd fly to find my father ,
& i would be the air we breathe .
Though heart's a falling feather ...
the maiden sunbeams still will bathe

in what i NEED to Now call : Heaven ;
that black art of universe !
& every star a human haven ...
an eagle's nest of feathered nerves ."




- 4 -


"i will write my heart of fire ..
fire is a myriad myth !
Love's re-called in first flesh flower ,
hate enflames the dust doomed moth .

Sightless . The heart's eye - a candle -
the very roots declared an orfan ...
a piece of live meat in the cradle ...
all in micro-disproportion !

All in search of a burning bush ,
all in the sweet slivers of the mouth ;
& the martyred mind in sheering blaze ...
of Her bright burning of my love ."




- 5 -


"i'm going to write my heart in poem ...
next best to nakedness Herselfs !
My body's fitting mortal home ,
that half-cloth out of which i'm spelt .

Here is a greeting of health .
Here , blue eyes & brown pianos ,
have married heart's in-venting howls
to the "cross-roads" thick with pulse !

And it's not a secret but a mystery .
The evidence is published as the past !
My poem is all the likely history of me
to linger fondly on ... t'il it "too must pass" ."




- 6 -


"i write the heart of my own soul ...
with dirt , the wind , fire & water !
My body truly was that virgin soil
from which my love arose in winter :

Half element , half ape , half star ,
half hole in the wind , half human organ ,
half of all the hope a beaten heart can store ...
the self-recurring common Orfan !

i pen the poem of "i-am-poetry ... "
- as if Hallaj , St Joan , Tom More -
the very vein of Word's-Devotery ;
swift green pebble of intimate mirror ."




Llorenzo Gusto -- from N&BH - tome 14 - Undeviating Rivet : Ego ... all rites@