Albert Huffstickler
You live on my lips
in waves of sound
that precede me. I mourn
you as if you were my own
grandfather, underground grandmaster
You live on my lips
And with the clanking of metal against glass
ashes fall, like a gavel, but not so judgmental
adjourning to the silence in this room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
in waves of sound
that precede me. I mourn
you as if you were my own
grandfather, underground grandmaster
You live on my lips
And with the clanking of metal against glass
ashes fall, like a gavel, but not so judgmental
adjourning to the silence in this room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
posted by Sir James Eric Watkins at 2:52 PM
5 Comments:
hi james
just checking back
hope you are well
i have been fright fully
busy / ah hallows eves is
near / /
this is a very love lee poem
sorry i don't read much / but
i find your blog hard to read
with the black back ground &
colour ed print / / my tired
eyes / damn i must be getting old
or some thing / lol
peace
~fx
Questioning a word here, James. Preced?
Loveyafinch.
Vickie, indeed I thought about this word choice more than once since the noun I was pairing it with isn't traditionaly thought of as something that preceds. Preceds as in coming before me in walk, reciting my poetry as I walk from room to room. This actually has many meanings for me, as Albert preceds me in many ways.
precede - has three e's
I love "adjourning to silence"!
Thanks, Dave. I here, but I'm not lately. You know?
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