Thursday, October 31, 2013

Love in the Stillness

Love in the Stillness
I am longing for the stillness
Like the darkened sky against a September moon
Yet here I am at the tides of noon
With all of hell and water beating down my door

This heart within me does so long for more
yet my head is banging against the bricks
Raised up long ago with clubs and sticks
and a thousand useless apparitions
and thousands more useless superstitions
Have overtaken my nights

So now it seems my only plight
Is how many videos it takes to entertain
How many cells can I kill before my entire brain
Finally comes to the point where I can actually be human again
Finally comes to the place where my heart can pulse
Not to mention where there my soul, repulsed,
comes into the pleasures of the meeting

Time is continual, time is fleeting
But to the birds I make my motions
Greetings high with mixed emotions
I stand on a rusting moonshine still
I hear the sound of a whippoorwill
Yet in the midst I know no distinctions
The old, the ladies, the dark, the tinctures
Have all faded into dust
I must, I say, I must, I must
Travel into the realms of timelessness
To hear my heartbeat revel in the winds

“Dear God, would you please stop this meandering.”
I hear the raucous noises daily, the philandering
It is the only music the dirt can hear
Yet I dance to sounds in the atmosphere
Which is why my soul is in stillness
In places dark and unseen
No shiny, metallic, shimmering sheen
But just an overwhelming magnanimity 
Sewn with deliberate humanity
Brings on a dance that shakes the universe

This I will never, ever reverse
Forever forward will I go
Will your heart and soul and being know
Me in this land of fierce contention?
I believe that I must have forgotten to mention
You were with me all of this time
You were the cadence, the voice, the rhyme
That slathered all of my being
In dusts and dances and darknesses bleeding
yet healing all the same
Was found in one vastly simplistic name
Called love

I have found the stillness

I so long for it....

K, Duane Carter 10/30/13

Wednesday, October 9, 2013


Voice (Day of Atonement)
I dream of days, I dream of ways
Where I do not have to enter into this incessant wandering
This amassing of graves between worlds of reality and fact
And the realms of reality and truth
These things I have wrestled with since my youth
Seeing the dragons get all the stronger
I still face them though I wander
between the place of courage and of fear
I sit amidst the lovely violets here
Just watching from a distance

I seek a grand but notorious gaze
a Voice that lives amongst blue-green eyes ablaze
These stories wrap around my mind
I cannot grasp such things sublime
Yet grasp them is exactly what I do, I must
Reach deep within to find the vessels of trust
That lead me to my pleasures
These things are so much more than treasures
They are rather more than things
Rather more on angels’ wings
They fly beneath my feet to greet me
All the while I look above while seeking
Those things that cannot be known or seen

I hear the whispers of gentle giants
I feel the tethering of a meek compliance
Knowing I cannot meet these ways
These ways that just lead all astray
Yet promise a sure deliverance
I also cannot yield to happenstance
Nor can anyone else for that difficult matter
For space is nothing but mindless chatter
if it truly had no beginning

I see the red roofs on those distant shores
The winding, writhing tales and lore
which break into my musings
All hair, all skin, all dark accusing
Just bristle in the sunlight
To speak of love so forthright
Is the answer to all these breathings

I cannot come into the forms and worries
Yet I cannot leave them ever since
I yield to the mysteries of unfathomable furies
With not a skip of heartbeats hence

I yield to the mysteries of unfathomable furies
With not a skip of heartbeats hence

So where does this all lead?  So where does this all go?
I think it goes where no one knows
But it does go into the knowing
The place where our listless souls are growing
In the green room of our past neglect
The pictures of our contorted wrecks
are turned into sound and life and beauty 
This happens right before our eyes
We listen and are mesmerized
by things we cannot hear nor see

In the listening I am free

It is in the listening I am free

I hear the Voice

K, Duane Carter 9/14/13