Saturday, January 25, 2014

Edgar Gabriel Silex

Your Gravestone

your gravestone gives
birth to broken wings
long buried in herd lies

Lazarus tears toil to talk
muster of throatsongs
flowering your gravesite

scarvespers rising
from armor vaults
unbidden inaudible

silence the sermon
of sorrow circles
the sky like an eagle
gathering orisons


In My Armor Room

in my armor room
my dad’s face
hangs on the wall
here I am weakest

the memory tide
rises in the windows
and shines its exoteric light
on my father’s imago

the hieroglyphic chain
of my existence
in that blessing wound

to wait here
is to be nourished
by paradox
and inspiration

to whirl through
the dervish day
with the flame words
of unpronounceable chants


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