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A FERAL PHASE FOR THE POET (Free verse) by daggatolar
III Is there a feral phase for the poet On account of the letters left behind Or on the count of words written and willed Like Kafka to a treatment of fire But Brod broods over this offspring of words And offers the Death of a Mind The unending life of his living words Stories like poems can order existence How else can the weakling seen by father in the son Not further retreat from the world and beat The imagination of words into the lord of all things And from the condemned cocoon of a being of nothing A roach arise from the shell of his human skin Announcing the liberty of beings To fashion new paths even unto death Resistance can have no other meaning Unblessed by an older generation of Castle dwellers With cloth lines for making cash In a clime where words are not property to be willed The one dares to work out of the other With nothing more than the belief in innocence The pursuit of one and being the singular One The practice of life is outside the reach of Judgement To sit and seek to measure our choices Is an impossibility in perpetuallity The different forms humans take to shape lives Can account self to nothing else count Everything life can kite flies Mortality and the spin industry of life here after Thrust words in its delivery and yet the trust of words To earn fame from the craft of words is a future unseen For stories can birth without sells points and poems Too can reach life for words to glory its being But unable to transit to cache load of currencies Thoughts for the reading and the living now And their opened mouths for something inside And their eyes come down on the lock keys of the Goodlucks Written in stashed foreign currencies notes The empty treasuries bear down woes And the poems not waiting for the exit from the Rock They let out testimonies written in the lives of poets Wasted out on the here on words not weapons To secure the luxury of daily existence And the dead Poets are no society To engage words left without a life force Not without a common ground Stripped of meaning and names They are to death only useful as bodies

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