To Whom this Invocation May Concern

How am little i,
oh wisest one,
to beg, plead, ask of you-
To whom do I direct this to?
i've been patiently holding it in,
awaiting your silent reply,
yet I regret to inform,
i'm grasping
at air-
missing you there,
perhaps...
-will come when you're ready,
pending by suspension,
willing my belief.
Just know,
as anticipating listener,
my tongue is in your hands.
i banish my own banter,
drowning your voice,
gurgling from my inner ear.
No More! Silence!
i remain fixed, devoted
and listening to every
syllable you may say,
chomping at all your
crisp wafer clues
not knowing how to
thank you.
when you come and go
abruptly as you
please
leaving me hanging
dead before the echoes back
because I never caught your name...


Composed 11/6/15

Image of painting by Sophie Gengembre Anderson, Portrait of a Young Girl [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

The voice of Carmen Saliare

Plant the words as seeds in me
or show where they go,
plot me, my empty well,
pour into me
I know how to grow.
I am listening with my body,
stretching my energy out
heat seeking rain driving clouds
another way, the unexpected conditions
are idyllic...
The thousands of times I've dug deep
soiled and toe knuckles white
barely holding on to your vortex-
pinned, I lay limp, naked and fruitful
before you
go, awaiting your thunderous appeal
to higher senses, save the lightening
for those needing epiphanies.

Plant me the identity 

too vacuous and strange
to encourage, to make, to plan
words with acumen and divergence-
Yours, Condemned.


Image By Dlls publicdomaindedication.com (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.