Friday, October 07, 2011

poem: these wanting few

if I were blue

as I frequently am,

dawn of a remnant wind,

pregnant ocean rump

in my lungs, son

of estuary,

orphaned, lost,

found, this stew

a miserable


an amber

gift to the vagrant night.

she asked after you,

found wanting

desire most blessed, these

wanting few,

wanting less

wanting the last note

down the line:

a single digit,

plea to gather

the blue you

carry, the blue

you mine,

the blue that begs

the question

in each & every




Blogger Teresa said...

Love it when you sings the blues, bro: "the blue you carry, the blue you mine, the blue that begs the question in each & every wine."

The video with pianos and vocals about 'darkest, darkest indigo' just enhances the mood. Makes me see the 'pregnant ocean rump.' (love that phrase)

10:30 AM  
Blogger murat11 said...

T: I was looking for another take on "Norwegian Wood" last night on YouTube: P Barber's version more than fit the bill. Went on a bit of a PB tear from there on. Same initials as mine, and a Scorpio to boot.

Best to you, girl.

11:17 AM  
Blogger Teresa said...

Gotta love those PB Scorpios. And Scorpio is soon rising, no? Your birthday week will be upon you in no time. Got any plans?

1:54 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

Gotta love, is right. Too soon for plans: the Black Rose's - Tina's - birthday is next Saturday. Scorp ain't allowed to stomp on the Libran time.

3:55 PM  
Blogger Teresa said...

Ah. I was under the impression that she was a Scorpio, too; instead she's like my dad and baby bro... the scales of justice type. Is one of her nicknames Mat?

9:41 PM  
Blogger murat11 said...

One Scorp in the house is enough, I'm sure. Don't want to overdose on narcissism. Walden's due date was the last day of Scorp: smart boy swam two more weeks on into Sagittarius.

9:47 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home