it is an art form

a river flows on its own
we move in concert with concrete on wheels, in walking

it is art form -
it is the city -
it is the echo of a single vowel,
      the spacing of a single numeral -(minus itself)
it is the heartbeat of all civil and un-civilized alike

there are scores here
whores not always in red - there are priests and paupers here
pilgrims in buckled shoes, pushers and politicians
toting charities with cheating
the holy nurse here - suckling the milk of mothers
counting their blessings, selling their souls

it is art formed -
it is nature painted as un-natural
   framed and auctioned to high bidder
   pawned for penance and a trip to Rio

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

posted for Magpie Tales 

common is never enough

there is a punctuation mark
on the road
a broken protocal
overlooked - i  hunt with copper in my shoe
root for semblance and aspect

solitude requires its own sheltering, its
own significance far from warmth and contentment
a return to season is placed
on hold - a return to hearth  unacceptable
the hounds task breaks all chains, ties no knots

the night will fall
common is never enough for winter

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

posted for d'Verse Open Link Night....bkm

i will not see frost

i have nothing
to give - a book or a plate
nothing of value even
in thought or cupped tea - a red bird minds
its own business
sharing not more than given
the days timing is all off
and when the wind appears to soften
it is only lying - there are wet stones
to walk and leaves that still require dying
the season is not over - i will
not see frost tonight

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

the precipice i walk

i hold a cataclysmic catheism
in my lap - counting on prospective indulgences
to do my saving

Can God ever forgive me? for
loving you - forgive me - for allowing you residence so high
in my steepled heart...

i can-not worship beneath stained glass
nor can i worship between a daylight and  dawning
on such it is the precipice i walk,
on such without postulated prudence, for

Is it not true?  that
Wisdom loves her lover as the violet
loves the sweet warmth from
the wintered window - borrowed or bought
bathed and blessed

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

posted for d'verse Open Link Night

life

any artisan knows
you can craft beads
out of bones (coveted and cleaned )

but you will not call it life

any poet knows
you can pen a thought
out of granite stoned (purchased and polished)
smooth

but you will not pen it as life

any wood-smith knows
you can plane, you can whittle
you can sand something
beautiful out of death - but we all know

it will never be called Life...

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

three steps - backward

i.

i need a chair

   and 6 pieces of paper

      a wall to write on - a full moon hanging

      from a peeling window

      come soon before the sun

      blinds us to what

      we have written

    ii.

    i have decided

       against the burgundy shades

          there are so many stories below- people moving

          i want to join them, but

          there is an unmade bed

          and burgundy

          is guarding the door

                                                                     

iii.

will you sit next

   to me like a warm tidal pool

      it is good to be wet - you and i, we

      were born mer-mates

      counting on pearl stars

      so afraid to

                                           be human

bkmackenzie

copyrighted 2011

developmental bard-ing

i have collected
key rings of every monogram
rested momentarily against
a space bar - vodka and tonic was the order
of the day - cursing
a sun that is always subtle in its awakening
it - having lasted longer
then most writers or instruments
of a developmental bard-ing


me, for me - that elusive key is
still out of reach leaving only
a single (?) mark and
outdated backspace, but (true) true even Mercury
goes retrograde - i suppose there is some
lesson within an
introspective reversal (never publish
until all goes in your direct-ion)

come midday
a future reflects an aging,
using  fear tactics to
highlight an unregulated tab key and talk
of a delete - i can not
change gods now - i have spent
a lifetime
covered in correction
paper threatening a timid shift key
into vowing the
fifth ....

Who?  Who else would listen to my confession????

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011

posted for Magpie Tales