The DNA of Rubble

for jacob

The DNA of Rubble

a poet of rubble,
a switch of the head,
was someone beloved
now lay in small beads of dead
how i remember his tuneful voice
where words became orchestrated
in an unusual chorus
so maybe i’ll visit this rubble one day
and see if i could play with his DNA.

Reviews

[Alfred Kukitz]

thanks margie!

oh the playful tatter of words singing together. just a little fun!

regards,
al

[barleygirl]

As is often the case with your poetry, I can’t be sure how this story goes. But I love your imagery of rubble and death, so originally stated . . . could be the pile of stones I placed all over my dog’s grave . . . or it could be the detritus in my head which must be cleared before I can bring a poem alive. It’s so artsy & playful & honest, not like a dreary message at all. You must have some crazy DNA, my friend (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Alfred Kukitz]

Thanks Jacob!

I'd rather have your ashes than mine.

regards,
al

[Alfred Kukitz]

Sami,

This is a response to a poem Jacob wrote where he mentions rubble.

regards,
al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you, Al...
"a poet of rubble"
oh maybe there is something those ashes...kind of hope so.

[Sami Khalil]

There must be a story here to be told. Not sure what is going on. I hope it is all ok.