Scents of Madness

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Wailing storms
Sing of death
Remembrance swirls
In a gyre of pain
True memory
Evoked though
Colors and song
Of gin of vodka
In toilet tanks
In washing machines
Under the sink
In drawers
Broken crashing
Wedgewood
Tureen and plates
Ashtray shards
Mosaic glittering
Mopped by long hair
Scrubbing suburbia
Shattered stars
And glittering Stueben
Sparkling broken
In moonlight
Refracted rainbows
Wild grapes and tears
The scents of madness
Steinway painted
With shame
All music being
Of time once was
Becoming ashes
Quietly disbursed
In hidden swirling
Wakulla whirlpools
Labyrinth dream
Rivers tunneling
Through Florida
Limestone cleansed
Bursting forth
In crystal or tannic
Or artesian
Springs singing
Of rebirth as
The storms above
Wail of the life
That never dies
With lightening
Sparked fires a
Tiny reminder
All can become
Ashes blown in
The heart’s
Wailing storm song
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Bear . . 06.30.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint 2014
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Sargassum And Red Hair Raft


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It came to be that
The four grew weary
Of living in corners,
The child skating circles
Around the ceiling light .
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While one lived insane,
And more insane,
And one died mad,
Over and over, rebirthed
To die again and again.
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One, all alone, kept watch,
Sleepless as the child’s
Guardian, safe passage
Only while unblinking.
They flew as a  red Phoenix.
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A journey of red hair felted,
Woven in the heart of madness,
A magic red hair carpet, they
Flew and swam blending,
Hidden in the Sargasso Sea.
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As an exotic island laughing
Eyes, swirling kaleidoscope
Lives, entangled as hopeless
As death, reborn to die mad
Anew, in a dawn of saline.
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Dew broken not by marching
Feet, awareness of  deep sleep
Refusing, dream prophesies
Cross spread, gyre fortunes,
A Sargassum and Red Hair raft.
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Bear . . . 06.30.2014
ⓒ Bearspawprint 2014
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