~A Vanishing Face~

02/22/2012

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~it very nearly breaks my heart~
~every time my brother goes to prison~
~the first time was the worst~
~he had a wife & baby son on the outside~
~we were young & I wondered~
~how he would survive that place~
~face the days alone in that crowded cage~
~all our lives I failed to protect my little brother~
~I wrote songs about how he must feel~
~sent him a couple bucks when I could~
~for zoom-zooms & wham-whams in the joint~
~sang my heart out in the band~
~the songs started out like this~

~A Vanishing Face~

~if truth were a sparrow & I learned to fly~
~I would never again walk to catch a lie~
~if moments were forever & days could be years~
~love was a rainbow & happiness fear~
~I would drown in a moment of fear every day~
~color my love with your smile & say~
~I love you today & yesterday too~
~only tomorrow will know what to do~
~I’ll hate you never, love’s kindling feeds the flame~
~I’ll always hear whispers of your sweet name~

~my clothes may be ragged, these shoes may be worn~
~my shirt may need washed, these underwear torn~
~only the sparrow knows of the seed~
~dropped down from heaven, our love to feed~
~clothes do not matter, the heart tells the tale~
~success is not beautiful to those who fail~
~my love & your love, two hearts as one~
~summertime breezes, summertime sun~
~remembering touching, the softness was real~
~no words to express how it made me feel~
 
~blue eyes turned hazy, a vanishing face~
~I reach out in vain to be back in that place~
~I don t really blame you, these bars I can’t climb~
~& I’ll never forget the last time~
~no, I’ll never forget the last time~

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WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
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©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
A Vanishing Face was published by
Flesh from Ashes
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~IX. A Tender Wrapping~

01/23/2012

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~soon after the turn of the century~
~Quodlibet won the Maria Cerjak award~
~for avant-garde/experimental writing~


~Quodlibet~
~The Hundred Bites~
~IX~

~the tiny old woman~
~wraps them in her housecoats~
~bunny slippers~
~dries their shaggy heads with a towel~
~you are old men now~
~in your fifties for god sake~
~you have no business~
~riding those damned machines~
~they sit on her couch shivering~
~smiling at each other~
~her two oldest sons~
~having ridden their Harleys~
~five hundred miles in the rain~
~to celebrate her birthday with her~
~she brings them hot coffee~
~loves them well~
~helps them roll their machines~
~into the dark warmth of her barn~
~the very next year~
~her bunny slippers are gone~
~& so is she~
~the brothers ride~
~their tears hide the rain~

~IX.  A Tender Wrapping~

~standing up for pennies~
~all hail at a dollar down~
~these blankets~
~ a hundred pound weight~
~strive to earn alive a shroud~
~a safe place to bury your worried face~
~o children learn to walk away~
~plant your seeds~
~your garden of youth~
~be tall & kind to yourselves~
~those older whom look away~
~may be kind & understanding~
~ever useful in the odd circumstance~
~such as surviving under siege~
~construction of birthing & burial blankets~


http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
Quodlibet was published by Howling Dog Press
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~VIII. Kisses/Mystery Forever~

01/22/2012

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~Quodlibet~
~The Hundred Bites~
~VIII~


~an old man~
~back against a tree~
~forgets his dreams in the shade~
~sidesteps into memories~
~sees clearly what was not~
~refuses to question what was~
~blushes when his thoughts turn to her~
~his leather paper-thin skin~
~red in the autumn~
~come winter his life~
~finally terribly alone~
~& none the worse for it~
~he recalls the twisted angles~
~primal howls~
~language of his birth~
~that it was she he learned to forget~
~his now & only found~

~VIII.  Kisses/Mystery Forever~

~I am not about to look at your photograph~
~you are not an image died yet~
~I sense a ringing of word~
~ingots piled high in our brain~
~a pendulum of centuries pealing~
~against our skulls until we are curiously aroused~
~there are those who consider mystery ~
~an only true for ever~
~certain knowledge of this implied~
~& tied to the tongues of dead heroes~
~thank you; I would kiss your flaws rather~
~make mud on the dirt of your skin~

http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
Quodlibet was published by Howling Dog Press
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~VII. Dignity/Currency of Beggars~

01/21/2012

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~Quodlibet~
~The Hundred Bites~
~VII~

~in heaven~
~all the interesting people are missing~
~Nietzsche~
  
~the most important kind of freedom~
~is to be what you really are~
~James Douglas Morrison~

~here I am an old man~
~sitting in this cell~
~that's the damndest thing I ever seen~
~you know~
~Charles Manson~

~who cares how time advances?~
~I am drinking ale today~
~Poe~

~VII.  Dignity/Currency of Beggars~

~there is no noble death~
~living so singularly significant~
~where dignity may only be found~
~in proper acts on walking faces~
~days tied on strings end to end~
~our lives a dangle of fishes~
~never meant to fly underwater~
~it just ain’t christian to lie~
~we all try to go outstanding~
~twist & present ourselves~
~as some convoluted truth~
~opine dignity is the currency of beggars~
~laugh about honor amongst thieves~
~dead folks don’t want to be alone~

http://wordwulf.com
WordWulf
Inquiries: tracy@traceliteraryagency.com
& wordwulf@wordwulf.com
©artwork & words conceived by & property of
Tom (WordWulf) Sterner©
Quodlibet was published by Howling Dog Press
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