Sunday, May 23, 2010

Word Field Picture

This is one of my word field pieces. It's a poem about peace that is based on a yogi's meditation on peace. 

peace floods me and blizzards me

extreme weather of my peace freaks out the weatherman

peace reeks around me but for my culture it is a subtle perfume

peace runs through me in a race we all win

peace is an uzi and a semi-automatic pistol to my unprotected worry

peace is an arson casing my house of pain

peace is a spark expanding to all and even burns down the insurance company

peace burns water and smokes out mist and fills infinity until only those alive

are ones who breathe peace peace is blood keeping me alive and kills those who cut it

peace flows through bodies of beauty that radiate the single intention for peace to

grow and enter and embrace and be impregnated by peace

peace is a smell that no one wants to wash away

peace clings to body mind and memory

peace is the soul of dust and lost objects

peace is left after all else which incircles me like a tongue made of a

million tongues except that peace is a billion tongues 

for each one of the million tongues of peace

Sent from my iPhone
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