James Browning Kepple

James Browning Kepple Poems

In our dreams we receive the transmission of space,
We convert our physical consciousness to radio,

To own an old lighthouse restaurant
on the coast,

I scurry to the library, where I can caress these keys,
the yellowing turn of leaves, the embrace of warm chairs,
for outside of my car and consumptive cans of beer, I can come here
bring my Langston Hughes I have hidden in canister,

Cursed few amongst us strewn
to the tides of the pacific highway,

A sucttlebutt, the worst of the butterflies
rounding out around second avenue as a

Its twilight 152 again,
And all the workers are walking,

A small one

a girl poetry
you can write

Its officially in the paper love, see,
I push the periodical across the table, light a cigarette,
she drinks her coffee and stares at the acidic print,
you know I never thought it would last she lisps,

Sitting by the pond we debate the need for fishing poles
as the singing mackerel breaks through the bubbly muck

I lost you there at the mini cooper and laundromat
I asked did you want to sit on the machine?


Your gypsy fiddle breaks the night
howls through the eaves a torrid tear,

cooking for two

my chinese woman has returned from space,
she has taken care to bring me such cosmic dust,

Terrestrial doubts

As another sun goes down on the underground
One reaches up for light

theres a corncob hat underneath the fedora,
it fits well into the curvatures,
in the sun we wear two hats,
one on the other, to align our heads with heat,

The Best Poem Of James Browning Kepple

The Jupiter Gates Of Babylon

In our dreams we receive the transmission of space,
We convert our physical consciousness to radio,
To relay, and watch in such graphic lucidity
The tales the universe would have us wake

When we look with our simple hands to the soil,
We lovingly caress the worms, the silt, the ruins,
Engage our worldly meanderings into the world
And hold out to the sky such succulent dirt to claim

For the heavens, for the stars, for the power of the sun
Transfix our simple human fondling with simple energy
Unknown, and we try to form it into an order that we relate,
That makes sense to us in the precious small moment of fate

And we have crafted such righteous structures towards the clouds,
We have formed and formed in attempt to surpass the will of sky,
We have built such massive complex of sorcery
Only to befall once again our simple hands in earth

The Jupiter gates of Babylon sprawled out to the landscape,
Surrounded, adjoined to the ancient buildings of Jerusalem,
The giant statues of our fallen gods,
The temples to ishtar and rah that have stood many test of time,

And I found myself away in a dream last night viewing such wonders,
I used my technology that we have developed to record such a sight,
To send it home to my parents, to see side by side these miracles,
These testaments of mans form to the heavens they are beneath

And I held the video camera and panned the horizon,
Moment after moment these powerful cracks in the martian sea,
It was a tourist that I had become and in awe looked past the gates,
And there was no future, but a vast craggy eruption, a blank

This wild deformed vacuum making an end, an asunder to scape,
And I assumed it in my own small stupid wisdom an end, a desolate,
A place of no return, and this historical conjunction of place
Was but the last remnant of the skys permitting our taste, our build

And I am no Marduk, I am no son of god, I am a formed creature of dirt,
One that under the rains, under the pulls of the bodies celestial,
Gestate on this awesome vision in what we shall find past the gates,
And why, in Babylon, and why in Jerusalem, and why here do they meet

James Browning Kepple Comments

James Browning Kepple Popularity

James Browning Kepple Popularity

Error Success