by David Fleischmann

I've got so much blue light

I've got so much blue light

I’ve got so much blue light
for the rain to fall through
  that my insides feel like they’re outside
  & not quite right
naked sinew sinker tight.

I’ve got so little summer left to shine
  through the fog
    that my pores feel closed & tight
shut down unable to alight
bare bone finger bite.

I’ve got so much straw left to rot
   in the fields
     that each singular haystack
yellowy black motionless pile
 of my skinless plight
has no sand on the beach  
nude ligament empty fight.

mmmm.....

I’ve so many

good wishes from

fortune cookies

saved in my home,

you’d think to see

diamonds and plums

in Chihuly

bowls in each room.

Reality?

Bowls by Ari

fill with pennies

and small apples

from our own tree.

Fortune’s simple

sugary crumbs

fill my temple.

My luck’s ample.

(the great cycle:) the same things that make me whole will make me dead

they say the stars of all the constellations
when compressed onto the body
become the chinese medicine points and meridians.


so i walk with galaxies under my skin -
and i've already been told
dinosaurs in my brain and bridges between.


every construct and metaphor, ever leaf and twig,
snout and slime mold, cloud and fever
clings to the depth of my fibriles and forms.


i've got so much life in me, if i grin
the songs of creation leak out, a small
glamour of sculptor and reaper

whisps into flight on sound waves
of delight and dread. the same things
that bring us death make us whole.

the same things that make me whole will make me dead.


today, cedar boughs (my lungs) heavy with cones (breath),
the wind of what-has-made-me (the thrillion conversations,
with young deer and neighbor, magnolia and moth),

like a galactic zephyr, roll through my blood
and start me thrumming. a tuning fork
for stars unseen and seen, i start glowing and know

what brings us death will make me whole.
the same things that make me whole will make me dead.
which leads me to believe: this poem will never
end.



October 3, 2011

Image credit - thanks to Anonymous and their free fractal desktop image

IMUNURI prompt: muchness

(C) 2002-2011 Michele Pred

so much 

paperwork.
admiration.  
tangled string.
boundary.


For this week's prompt,
complete the phrase  
"I’ve got so much ____." 

Make this the topic and/or the title of your poem.


Alternative 1:  Start with the phrase, "I've got too much ____."

Alternative 2:  Substitute many for much.


Tags: poem, muchness, [your handle]