Manna (To each his own)

Letters, he said,
are all right-angles
twenty-six conduits
for simple acquisition.
Put your words on the shelf
at night, unpack only
what you need. Stop
mistaking typewriters
for altars. My dear,
your pencil’s not a paintbrush.
The consequence of sound
ends at the softest
decibel.

Why do you need a word
for homeless planets,
the heritage of solitary stars?
Why do you assign
meaning to the gasp
of wonder when you look
out the window and see
home, a cityscape,
an ancient horizon
you can trace with your index?

A miracle doesn’t need
a legacy, I said,
but how can you live that way?
When you lay beside
the river’s midnight lurk,
swans asleep in hidden
nests and yellow ragweed
in your hair, look up-
watch waves of savage wings
and wind roaring over
your head. Believe this
is why ancient Greeks
fashioned myths and heroes
from our galaxy’s rollicking war-cry.
Lean with your whole
body towards the churning
hour and consecrate
rugged euphony with your own
surprised shout, pure
and ephemeral adoration.

All of this and heaven too.
Bless the man who christened
each wisp of earth-hewn pulchritude
the hands that consecrated
these ephemeral gifts,
sonic revelations carved into stone.

17.10.15

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5 thoughts on “Manna (To each his own)

  1. “Put your words on the shelf
    at night, unpack only
    what you need. Stop
    mistaking typewriters
    for altars. My dear,
    your pencil’s not a paintbrush.
    The consequence of sound
    ends at the softest
    decibel.

    Why do you need a word
    for homeless planets,
    the heritage of solitary stars?”

    YES

    1. Thank you! 🙂 Haha the backstory to this is that I tried to explain to a friend how important to me words and languages are, citing a few of my favorite English terms and trying to translate the definition. The person just stared, whistled low, and asked what I’d been smoking. Perhaps not the most successful exchange yet.

      1. A lot of people, myself included, tend to write off things that seem to be a thought process that can only be conceived through drug trips. I’m trying to change that mindset though, especially now that I pretty much only write sober now and some strange things are coming out of my head. So I can totally relate to your friend’s initial reaction. But I also love that this poem came out of it 🙂

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