Straw-God

1 ~ LEVI'S LAMENT

...soldier captive sentry
keeping none from entry...
baked bleached beaten by
a hazy never lazy white sun hang high in sky
a relentless blind eye
it never sees, it blazes, it rages
blistering the clay, then goes away
then comes again another day...
i, levi, in faded denim, wind washed calico shirt
from rags, my burlap vest from tater bags
sewn together so lovingly by the girl with autumn
leaves tangled in her corn yellow hair
now, where is she? where?
sparkling eyes like the deepest brooks
coke bottle glasses slip down nose when lost in books
she told me all her secret wiles that one did
indeed she did
of her many fancies and what in her heart she hid
she always laughed when the others cawed
teasing me with, 'are you my man of straw,
or is it straw-god?'
her name i am reminded of by the winged ones' cries
they peck and cackle and tell me no lies
all i kno about them is to levi they no listen
them naughty jesters with feathers that glisten
iridescent hues that remind me so of the night
when i find rest from the sun's cruel non-sight
of all the things ol' levi has not
speech was not the most sought for prize
rather it was the look in her deep mossy eyes...
when she formed me from a threadbare quilt
stuffed me with straw colored as her hair like gilt
she sang something about a needle in a haystack
how true love was so difficult to find
while she sewed on mismatched buttons for my eyes
so i could watch for the fluttery ones
tumbling thru the dusty skies
they just land on me, not much good do i serve...
she was blind, she was kind
her lips with such a sweet curve
...them feahers sure have them some nerve!
for they dance and they jeer
and drink the rain that lends me a tear
silently wondering when she will return to me
she told me to wait here, she said 'listen, lee
if i cant find me that elusive needle in the hay
i will return to you on some wind-strewn hazy day
blown in like an ill wind
a lack of love to bitter my craw
searching for a needle when i only need a man of straw'
i'd have her to wife if she would but have me
season tripping over season
passing days with their flavor of treason
further fading old lee...
endless days nights to wait with no pause
my friends onyx wings flapping sounds like applause
i am not needle, nor flesh, these just two of my flaws
could this be the day then?
the air ripples like guaze...



23 April 2008

9:12pm