Deep below raging waters
Far from static eyes and
Narrowing lines
Lies the small piece of bliss
Lodged in surging veins.
A small child of devotion
Feeds him in his cage and
Comforts him while the water roils
And the wind howls.
Bliss asks his new masters to let him
Be the father. To let him hold her again,
But reality steps to and proclaims,
"You are not blood."
So bliss rages in silence as his cage is lowered again
With their faces carved into his back,
And reality sets forth to pull the ship through a storm
Of his own creation.
new homes
ReplyDeletedisplace daughters with missing fathers
“I miss him”
start the record again in unproductive rereading
of promises that are
“meant to be broken”
a bubbled quiet with broken mother
in the midst
of pseudo-intellectual cacophony
which becomes thunder in their unquiet minds
the rain in her begins and rolls toward the river
where summer adventures and closeness
can't blanket this
water is sometimes thicker
where blood drowns, water renews
urging you to go find your misplaced cape
for her