She smiles; body of the lake.
Those were stars, held in
The hands of her father.
In the body of the lake
There she be. In the body
Of She, only stars, only free.
II. Heraldic
Smashed in transit. In transit he was
So inwards and inside. Smashed in
Transit, inwards and inside.
Hiding out, hiding, alive. In transit,
Shamed. In Berkeley, let it rain.
O, but to be so lonely.
O, but to be a gentle kite. You
Float upon the breeze, in transit
You leave the motions known behind.
Fragile and at night a draft rises;
Catches waves, they, in transit. You,
Smashed, inwards, dancing every night.
III. Two to Table
—I spy poverty and malice great.
—No: women here to serve, or dinner plates.
—But I spy poverty, and malice is plenty.
—No! Women, here, to serve.
—Or dinner?
—Plates!
—But I spy poverty and malice great!
—No!—
—Women here to serve?
—Or dinner?
—Plates?
—Sure.
B.J. Biesek, a poet, Born Before at times. Self-publishes poems for One Year More Poems and edits with Blind Literary Journal. Contributor in 2013 to Prosaic {re.}, and Mirrors Magazine. Read poetry at UC Davis and was featured by Coalesce Magazine, both November 2013. Finds Twitter valuable and voluble: @born_before. Advent/Neo-Stoic philosopher focused for now on culture jamming, audio journaling and practicing philosophy.
