Lloyd Addison

wait for the girl lately loved with whom fate has hungered

waiting

hastens

fate

for the or alternative awaits the ing T H I N G the weights of wait the love of God more surely assured

waiting to close when in thewonder inside feeling thunders follows white like lightning lithe as rain as night roughly lonesome

litigation takes long and the gates of matters early/late

but two have come too late

perhaps (heart) time out and out doubles outer day breaks somewhere at doubt-turning reason day in night brightens out-extending distance into open outer continuance when resolve is rocked and templed time is a space without entrance an island in transit away

from lonesome sky space

lonesome love has come to visit time-out-waited-out to here

I lean to you -- alien man, leanest in prerequisites --- I lean, cured of vicissitudes, lion, but unbeleaguered of lions, allured to visit, to align --- alone, no lion alone, living, lying alone pleading love, the non-transitive balance, the coupling substantive.

I lean: little hill of dreams to sleep within -- hydrant of hope to spring afresh.

I lean out of the lawn sky a shy cloud of gray age from the sea --- I lean toward excellence, into mirrors reflecting upon you, into mirages of thirst to be first at your mouth than waters then enheartened.

The doorknob turns: tomorrow is a weight-outdoorway time ---

I lean, I lean out of the roomless no roommate mold of breath, breathless of tapestried misery, to otherwide rooms windowfilled -- thrill my history windless soul.

I lean, now over the barbs of balustrades, of barricades of isolation, out of feverish autonomy --

don't don't lean away.

O bury me not in:in the little room, like a worm in a one-by-one padded & colorful, far from the madding birds ---

O bury me not in long unrequited dreams O bury me not in the margins of identity, voiceless & meaningless O bury me not in 'September Songs' in offbeat secret memories behind the veil of pride, under vanity's shawl

Are all the days the same in December Are all the days the same at noon Are all the days the same in the night

All the days are the same in never stopping All the days are the same to wake up hope-short All the days are the same day-over-day hobo wardrobes

Are all the nays the same into night, were day spread all over the bed, all over the bedroom, all over the bath, hot & cold to run

O bury me not in laments of stopdown O bury me not in the cold, in the naked cold, alone O bury me not in beauti-force infidelities, in lost address books, in the field response, O sands of years

Bury me dead before I awaken Bury me in the wind by the sea and go away from that time & place until they bury you

All the days are the same in timelessness

I can't stop wanting to live I can't stop wanting to die I can't stop wanting to love

Bury me at night in an unknown place, journeying blindfolded, at that world's edge, scatter me, remembering,

I can't wait to write another song I can't wait to work another rhythm I can't wait to dance another dance

Bury me out, among songs again, remembering,

I will write of you in the clouds I will write of you on the waves I will write of you in the leaves, over fields, from hilltops & rooftops, thru-out all hearts

Bury me not agrieved of the years of life Bury me without a trace: That my spirit is all, and nothing -- is everywhere it will, and still

O songs of dying me, be silent: Let my love be loved again

In the year of the ninth moon's passage when the cradle was full of love of the flood of eyes of the big rock's kick and love cut open wrecked distances

And time / was it?/ a still breath's bundle stood on head in the air by the heels and squealed in a clenched-fisted silence at the sea and the ship's bottom fallen and the milk rock pendulum of a breast fed it breath and keels of the closed-in rocked-in stockinged sea made a lap the world --

bounced you on pigeon-toed columns of feedings what happening-to-life your selflessness to self-possession would dispossess the same questioning you in your time it knocks

to see in form the sea beauteousness its wilderness placidness on its far night loneliness wakefulness knowingless forlorn cough calling that the pendulous sea would have into your body a life likeness of love

You were like beloveds' contentment contentions against time & modern conscience --- you laughed back upon their cunning

you were kisses at breasts wishing milk-unceasing love slept here between these and night and the crib & spoon

You were a clown before sadness and windows of tears full of laughter gave vent to the old year's mood of dismal time in the face after lovelight forever

And now your time is saying you are now

even always abreast mother of the world the ship of hope passes from its quiet eternity out of you

now enough now sailing comes the new hope

throughout emotions emerald coruscation enchantment does not stop but glows damn over damn an alembic of interlocking glow overflowing generationally from hope

here is home from the beginning with birth's song -I, Builder- said again.