Crushing Symbol
Children of heaven return to kiss-blown stars
to plumb the dark-wine depth of the west,
heart, eyes, lap, commanding interchange and upload.Lavender rocket, the most real music soloing,
world-wielding above the blue-hung shield of skies
thunder horned, silken strung, unlocks with deep fingering
lucky to claw or get a whiff revealing secrets of the universe,a quantum ascent to reach that place
where God’s tender face appears
in crushing symbol, straw-bent, humble.Welcome an unknown sense
when all heart breaks open,
gizzard, guiro, groove, a grate
to sift burnt youth.From brute force all directions go, all food, all known,
his mirrored inner glow distinct as lion strength,
though wavier than will and rounder than safe.Man’s heavy echo helps him navigate
wings encumbered with Bifrost trembling
radar’s moral beam attending
read-only flight, the being-ware
progression all assented to.A gesture signed
the voice of the player stilled,
and she, that silence,
hides unearthly ends in mind
played down by artful rondos of reply
in self-bent grind.A molded-over case
of strap, recovery, reeds and wick,
the speaker and word, a mouthpiece phrased
in blue objectives, feeling new, a space to belong
to reach and record his flight to otherness,cool enduring, cool and yet you discover smoldering
what it’s like to play and be remade,
reborn from plodding inner scales
and all the rancor of his sound.You dare to be tender, keeper of the yes of self.
You struggle between the rulebook and the handbook of survival.Follow the yes that rises out,
the flower that grows in the middle of your head
your Intimate radar’s second sight
beyond the human allowed to watch
invisible motion, waking to brightness,Pray to be normal, free of egocentric eccentricity.
Beg for help against interior terrors
tangerine walled, that place to retreat to
smoking ladies, jeweled hands,
that someone just to say hello to.After pangs of a spent musician’s
war of wince and whir
the day must die in a whirlwind.
ŠJimmy Warner Design, 2010