Treasure Island

Warren Falcon

(04/23/52 - xxxx / Spartanburg, South Carolina, USA)

Brittle Goes the Bone


for Ocean

The animal we are
reserves just rights
to complain -

empty bellies,
encroached territories,
crotch urgencies,
skin withers,
fur falls -

brittle goes the bone,
so small the gathered human corners,
so great the needed mercies.

We must not dishonor
the animal we are.
We fight for blood right,
birth right, some bread,
a place to lie down
with kindred beings.

A patch beside a stream,
a doll house street,
sweat-and-blood won,

proclaims a personal kingdom.

Listen now.

Milky or Muddy Ways
somewhere require stunning loss.

We are falling,
battered lips praising
still.

We have
witnessed,
yes,
cracked
all this.

With a kiss
love in the crush
and crank is

sealed.

Submitted: Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Edited: Saturday, September 24, 2011

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Comments about this poem (Brittle Goes the Bone by Warren Falcon )

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  • Vipins Puthooran (10/2/2011 2:13:00 PM)

    Strive for the right is usual in today's world.
    Headless fight and legless walk are always ends in a muddy shore ... Well written... (Report) Reply

  • Warren Falcon (9/27/2011 1:07:00 PM)

    Yes, Leslie. Perhaps my most difficult task is to comprehend the 'gathered human corners' of community and the family of humanity and all 'kindred beings.' And to seal that Love in my own grasps, caresses, extended hand and kisses. (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »

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