Three Poems of the Day, April 24: "The Stars During the Day", "Grin", and "Doors"

BLOT: (24 Apr 2016 - 09:26:50 PM)

Three Poems of the Day, April 24: "The Stars During the Day", "Grin", and "Doors"

It has been a couple of days since I have last written a poem. I've taken a few stabs at it, and what you see below is the result, though each of them was actually committed to the "page" tonight. The first two are too rough, and were close to not even being included, but the third is one that I do actually kind of like. And for those paying attention at all to the weird graphics accompanying the poetry, the final form is starting to show up. I'm definitely starting looking forward to May, when I will go back and edit and tweak all of these poems into something more like their final shape.

"The Stars During the Day"

The stars during the day are not sleeping giants
Romantically watching from around the corners of sunlight,
They are hidden in the depths of blue, burning and bright,
The great constant kings always on immaculate fire,
And the sing down to us like we talk to corpses in the grave.

Skulls of hydrogen into helium, iron building in their marrow,
Those gods creak and moan with the song of bones and time,
Passing overhead ignored in their ocean of blackest rhyme,
Their faces are years behind their slow walk, their eyes open
Wide and eternity trembles in their very passing, their ire.

Look not for stars in the daytime, the jealous sun will frown,
Let them have their secret ways, their tedious sabbaticals.
Seasons change, people die, and leaves pass green to brown.
As the stars pour out into the sky, others drown in day,
And another song is sung, another horrible dawn awakes.

"Grin"

I grin when I think
I laugh when I hurt
I smile when I am confused
I crackle cackle giggle guffaw when all the pains of understanding break upon me and smite my brain and I am left choking and burning and lost again inside of the

Let me tell you a joke of lust and joy
Let me tell you a joke of day and night
Let me tell you a joke of death and loss
Let me tell you a joke of finding, the gentle joy of finding, of finding whatever it is you are looking for and knowing, having found it, that you can only hold it for such a little time

A clown I am
A fool I am
A jester with a head of feathers and twine

But I see
But I see
I see, but for a little while
So laugh with me, and smile with me, and grin with me, guffaw and teeth
And let us tell these jokes and riddles to the face of life, so messy and yet so complete

"Doors"

Doors are not always rectangular in nature,
And hearts are not always beats and blood,
Dreams are not always stains upon thoughts.

I have noticed without paying too much attention
To anything of the sort. I have noticed without noticing.

Trees are not always bark and swings and leaves,
And roads are not always avenues or paths or streets,
And horizons are not always the sky's final edge.

Makes sense, on deeper introspection,
That my soul MIGHT be shaped like that,
Shaped like something it is not while also
Just maybe, shaped exactly like it is.

Oceans sometimes flow like shadows,
River sometimes dry to dust and flame,
And the rain sometimes dies without ever
Finding a single spot upon the ground.

Casting shapes upon the wall, I wish
I could see the bigger picture;
But blinder than a moment of joy
In a world full of pain and misunderstanding,
Blinder than a moment of crying
In a world full of love and happiness,
I wait, and in the morning (as dew) I fall.