A Collection of six Poems, Which includes “The Sound of God”

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Inside The Tent

Inside the tent, just before the siren
of seagulls and crows,
the planet loses a small bit
of its sovereignty.

If only for a minute or two,
rolled like a napkin in a French
bistro and zoned out to the blithe,
unconditioned air, measuring
time by the breaths of a caving fly
and the meditations of dripping rain.

Beauty above. Beauty under.
With anything out of my breath.

The Sound of God

The sound of God
is a ripple in time,
a wave of gravity that
only humans can hear.

The sound of God is a
window into the universe,

and the flow of time—warped
by a black hole.

The sound of God,
born nevertheless and travelling.

What the Greeks Did Not Leave

With out books, the only stories
we would know are these told to us.

In front of a firepit. Just before libraries.
Just before understanding of the entire was
not possible. Just before we could be in
continual touch, there was only the yard.

That seeing spot. That dancing spot.
That scene we get in touch with play. With out records
and with out printed words. Just before the films
of our lives had been frozen in the seventh art.

Spectacles brought into the living area.
The world’s largest orchestra in your pocket.

Thousands of instruments grouped into households.

Tight as Bark Ripped From a Tree

I do not know why
I became an atheist.

I have been told
that a auto accident
is not a superior sufficient cause.

So, to be sincere, I do not know…

But some nights I touch the Maker,
like the scent in my nostrils that
comes from the Cerulean flames of
an unkempt campfire on the beach.

Scorching and tight as bark
ripped from the skin of a tree.

What Breaks Us

Fake news tells us
that we are divided by
our politics. That is a lie.

We are divided by chains

of mountains formed by
the folding of the earth’s crust.

Below intense stress,
race does not maintain

us from understanding,
at least not the way erosion does.

The edges of eons rubbing each and every other

the stroke of an earthquake on the elbow and
a volcanic eruption among the toes.

The Least Amongst Us Integrated

No extra lists.
No extra bans.
No extra you are not permitted.

No extra I get to choose.
It is not correct.

Everybody deserves assistance.
No extra red flags.

No extra barriers. Let’s open the doors
of perception. Of reality. Of adore and hate.

Let’s do some thing radical.
Let’s say yes to absolutely everyone.

The least amongst us integrated.

«RELATED READ» POEMS BY GEORGE PAYNE: The Name of God Is Not a Word, Tuesday Evening Tango and more»


image: George Payne

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