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Saturday, January 19, 2008

Heliotropes


By Francis Scudellari

My body taut, in full-fingered stretch up
Toward dim-lit corners, raised fore-seeking
Traces of glyphs, "to be" chiseled, unknown
Hands future feeling pulled by ideas
Unnamed, thoughts not yet formed, glistening tips
Craned to hear cryptic words, spoken only
Later, echoed in tomorrow's daydreams,
Hopes etched as memories, not yet lived

My heart beaten, a full-blooded convert
Soaking up foreign energies, red streamed
Emotion pulsing through unseen beds turns
Light to matter, in macabre dance, fluid
Embraces, shadow kissed lips elicit
Bursts of wished-for affection, happiness
Captured in negative, reverse outlines,
A smile-framed photo, not yet developed

My mind undone, to full exposure points
Outward, far reaches traveling essence
Spread thin, unfurling in twisted channels
Still uncut, searches unsightly sources,
Finds perverse illumination
Breathing in notions uncharted, sensing
New life synthesized from untold tales, old
Characters in stories, not yet written

My soul unpaired, in full-throated song calls
Forth partnered static, bellows-like beckons,
Exhaling sparked, spirited barbs meaning
To attract motes floating into beams uncast,
Homeless fellow dust specks wanting rays, paths
Shimmered down earthward, revealing in common
Our fate: heliotropes lacking a sun,
All striving toward starlight, not yet born
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