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Wednesday, July 22, 2015

copeland morris BALAO



The rain and shadow of raindrops, tinsel curtain,

Refrain and shadows
Of raindrops fall.

The gone man is a thief of all to be certain:

Shangri-La, Balao,
The Fillmore, Dreamland.

He could fill them up now; his fingers fly

Like redbuds, crepe myrtle,
Whipped by the wind.

He meets his love on the little square in Balao.

An owl endowed
With tender hoots,

A tiny shiver, watches their awkwardness die.


2 comments:

Unknown said...

I don't understand it, Mr. Copeland. Professor. I am a simple soul. I don't like abstract art, but I know what I like. Could you give a detailed explanation line by line in your next post so that earnest nitwits like myself can follow each line? Maybe you should interpret each word, as well. Like what is Balao? What is Dreamland? What is tinsel curtain? Is crepe myrtle a woman made out of paper? What kind of owl are you talking about? Is this the great horned owl? When you say shadows, are those like real shadows or are they shadows in your head? Please help us, the gap-toothed starving masses to understand. Thank you and remember: Jesus Saves! Your friend, Gustus Praxum.

Unknown said...

To be clear, I am just the conveyor of the above message, which I received from the person who signed the message, Gustus Praxum. I have nothing to do with it. I wish to state for the record that I love poetry and abstract art.

copeland morris ENTWINED SONNET

Her shaded eyes, her necklace black velvet, onyx. Anguish she spoke; and he carried on, obsessed As only a young man could. An odd harm...