Doves
5 poems, Bjorn, Dec 8-9
Constellation
Constellation,
i’ve known now
a new constellation.
Strung orion’s bow to pleides
Stripped the spaces between
North and south
Dip to dipper
Flung filigree fecund
Under a nameless star.
Purloined;
A new constellation
Called;
Dove with Legs
Portrait
Future’s painters
Sop-still love retribution
And longer future’s
Still deep receive
Relieves light its play
In formative portray
But mostly play:
In portraiture
Perchance the world
Begins first:
Seeing ourselves
Seeing ourselves;
And painters
They’re likely to be
Molds, casts, a familiar
Portrait pointing
;In with God:
Among faces familiar
Smiling in the mirror
Braving an unbridled
Reflection, still
On moving:
Water, paint, cars, windows, eyes
We blink
Open a new era
Perceptions set
Love, dotted
Coalesce, us –
Forgiveness
Liturgy
I’m not just writing any poems
These poems are it;
Elusive it,
And every one of and us
Altogether:
Thinking, some sequencing;
Dreaming, some feeling;
Geniusing, all one:
God is light,
God is love,
God is.
Rosary key
Rosary key
Beads the broken lock
Never locked
Safekeeping who could
who’s living in every
Shimmer light
Eyesight
Tonight
Rosary key
Beading me:
Sea
To
endless
Sea
Rosary key
Beads me to she
With God
There is no
Inbetween
So it seems
My bluer hours
Have quelled
In field
In the field
Or in a field
We find
Driving nowhere
Theres no love
Driving everywhere
Where there is love
Driving everyone
Into who
Could be loveless
With all this
All this love
For some fields smote
Some’ve pumpinked
Youre my bed of ink
Just dreaming
Only of you
Only of love
The field’s
doves glow