POEM TITLE
BLACK POT
POEM
Like an epistle to the apostles,
l bleed this ink to a dying patient
whose skin becomes black like charcoal
as grim reaper frightens her hands -
with an ailment/waiting for medicine
as she gazed at my countenance;
screaming for chilled water like a child
to quench the burning psyche
but; I panned out with this letter.
Dear Doris Dorian,
I bleed this ink with my stethoscope
as medicinal missives heal like anointing oil
cause; this fracture bone of yours is incurable
but chase fear from stealing your mind
cause; nature is the headmaster of life.
Dear Doris Dorian,
there is a city like one village
where nature heals men & women.
this ailment of yours is like an ant
in the hand of nature
cause; this village choir masters chant moon & sky
pen writes in two shades -
to heal & teach.
fly to this village city
where nature heals like a seer
my mother calls it a tavern;
its sea is like a black pot
but the soil is white as snow
fishes swimming & making minds recess
even the drummers are sailing & rejuvenating
Dear Doris Dorian,
this healing will come in pot's street
no soul will request a bill from you
for they live freely like this free air.
this is a written letter of how a sailor -
sailing & partying day & night -
marry the atmosphere as an alien.
the olive trees & birds echoe
& swim
dine & wine as the sun shines
for this village city.
culture is like a dye that never dies
cause; nature is the headmaster.
this is my mother’s inscription,
“out of the fruits
in a garden
there is one that has the virus
I know of medicinal leaf
as the chirping parrots
nest on the tree that bears fruits
to feed an empty stomach
in the black sea near Edinburgh
fishes welcoming the ship like our annual feast
telling tales of sparkling sites
where ancient tales built mansions
learn the storytelling skill
as we sail in the black sea
telling the beauty of nature.
there leaves like men here
trees protruding in the sea
for milk flowing in the barn.
before I wrote my first poetry
Robert Louis held my hands to carve
& weave words in the spirit
for mastery comes from his region.
what about Robert Burns, burning the mind with knowledge
as we sail in his ship
to write more books in our climes.”