Esoteric Online


                          "in the country of thresholds we move like vandals overturning birth dates"

                           - Ben Belitt

                           When the late poet was asked how John Savlove was doing in North Bennington

                            he replied, "Still dancing in his own mist"

     Is it a fog ... or is it a mist

     Submerging me in conversations I've missed

     Have you been kind or intangibly obscene

     To constipate and strand me in between?

     Is it a fog ... or is it a mist 

     This air is filled with vapors that you piss

     Stowing me safe or keeping me trapped

     Snowed until the day I've snapped?

    Is it a fog ... or is it a mist

    A halo round my head like an antithesis

    Quixotic hostess, Dulcinea's friend?

    Am I suspended in time or do I pretend?

    Is it a fog ... or is it a mist

    Watery psychic shards of cracked amethyst

    How much to do with the myths of Christ

    Or some second-hand karma marked down as priced 

    Is it a fog ... or is it a mist

    Vice precedent mills are overflowing with grist

    Celestial bodies know such precision

    Why then must you consider yours a prison?

    Is it a fog ... or is it a mist

    Can someone else please clear up the difference

    Am I too pure, ... too polluted

    Is this message better off unheard and undiluted?

    Is it a fog ... or is it a mist

    Am I in play or did I get scratched off some A-list

    A field of dreams for a stadium

    If I built it all alone will the people still come?

    Is it a fog ... or is it a mist

    Of a wind that can't be caught, or is it the gist

    Will you ever speak what must be revealed

    Or is the work to keep my body sealed?

   Is it a mist .... or is it a fog

   Does anyone get what I've written in my blog?

   My rainbow shines throughout this murk

   Or whatever else y'wanna call this work



                                                                                                                           {to le Calderone}

                                                                                                                                                J. Savlove  --  Ostara 2017


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Comment by sav on Sunday

Rewrite time came for this blues. By unspoken agreement with the HTML all the corrections to verses already posted plus a new concluding one are up there, and two more verses are printed here:

Is it a fog or is it a mist

I call it Brain Consuming Telepathic Blitz!

Must be the sound of the new century

Because everything else I hear sounds old to me!

Is it a mist ....   or is it a fog

A cloud so full of rain she's waterlogged

What might release these cleansing drops

The movement

ever surging

always        stops

Comment by sav on May 14, 2017 at 7:44am

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