The Pilgrimage, Book II / Phillip Neal Tippin
Part 6
Look at all the days we’ve worn through,
Stretched collars of faded memory
And distress’d weeks we’ve pulled
Our arms and legs through.
I don’t want to be original
To be original is to be iterative but
To be repetitive is to be discoverative
So let my wants be repetitive.
The old hand
As a young gun
Must find his hold slacken
To get his grip unslung.
Buckshot-full of character
Part 7
I repent, Lord,
Help my unrepentance.
It’s time
To grow
In the loving arts
As roots begin to wander.
The drip of the day’s due
Dawned upon the earth.
I’m
After
Explication
In confirmation of the implicit.
The day when strength is found waiting
Not wanting.
Part 8
Closeness of routine and a nestled rest—
A daily commune with the vast expanse.
—
Expending of days for expansive rest,
The way to make the expanse a waste
—
Go back to the bellows
The fire and its forge
To shadow in sparks
The expanse of the stars
Poets have the clearest words
For the lotted, paired mind.
Just keep from cutting out
Or maybe only half and mourn that—
A pattern I’ve got down pat.
Lord, uphold my own faith.
(Luke 22:32)
Part 9
The eunuch runes of our time
Spell ruin and the rise of barren ties
Ways of saying
What you’ve done
While the others undressed for bed
The ginkgo became sick upon the lawn.
Deserve the derision
In which I dwell, wishing
To cleanse the thoughts
By which I’m held in you.
…better yet
Take myself out of my love
Part 10
Saved from fates
Much better than death.
Even they can’t live it again
And the eidetic stabs deeper
Than what I could be pleased to evoke
Trust to my eye
Sockets
More than my
Eyes
(A place was given to house the seeing)
Our favor fall-out nature
Cave to the political
In the face of the Kingdom of Light.
(Solemnity of Christ the King
Optical
Pilate
Plato)
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