I’ve given birth to myself in muddy fields
Sweaty crowds dancefloors
Of Achilles heels
Open throats and eyes
Inky outcrops of rock
Slumping into the sea
Thinky fingerprint stained
Sheets of paper

I’ve
Been reborn as me
More times than there are names for god
There are monasteries devoted
To notating tabulating remembering
And celebrating my birthdates
My star charts expand in fractal arcs
Astrologically etch-a-sketching infinity
Light on dark
Ink lines stealing in cartwheels through
Galaxies
My consciousness is constantly unconsciously
Caressed by requests with respect
To father and mother me
Sister and brother me
Lover me silently with sighs lent by divinities

Offers to divine the PH balance
Of the soil of my soul
To see if my moment seeds need
Fertilization with flesh strained through
Poetry

It’s true I’m almost always
Oblivious to all of this giving
Spend my time tinkering
With a syllabus that has no directions for
Living in
My condition appeals to the church bells
I’m pealing
I
Keep telling myself my tongue
Is a stained glass ceiling
And not another carpet
Of simple green seedlings

I’m stunned into coming
Every time that I realize I’m breathing



Still… bite my tongue
Cloister my lungs
Wear my skin like a nun
And stop myself feeling
The pregnancy and wing
That respiration reveals

And just go on reeling and call
It all fun
When I know I should be kneeling
When I know I should be kneeling
To each thing that breathes under this sun

I’ve been reborn many more times
Than I’ve died
Keep losing my skin
But there’s an infinite supply
And yet and yet
The tear away petals of your eyes
Are the gentlest forceps I’ve ever seen
They make more sense than a thousand machines

And all these horizon lines I’ve chased
All these struggles I’ve embraced
Were just erasable traces
Of that perfect taste of that perfect
Place
Of your inside face
And you yourself are nothing
Nothing more than the air I blow
Balloons with
The ink I draw cartoons with
And a shrine that understands, unlike some,
Exactly how I know and want to be held.

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Comment by Stephanie on January 26, 2009 at 7:19pm
Dave
I often find that Ruach and I are admiring similar poems and writings here....she is right, this is stunning.
Beautiful and original too, the title.
Keep writing
Stephanie

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