bursting Marrow

Canto, canto
it puts the tempo
lighter in the step.
steel strums
on burnt frets
make calloused
fingers feel...
you tickle the bones beneath
pretty porceline...
what do they say
when you put your ear to
my breast....?
is that rhythm drums
or bursting marrow?
I'll tell you
since you cannot know me
mortar has sealed you out
like tree sap seals out ants
from honey hives.
you are not welcome too far in...
Perhaps in the backdrop
is some faint march
pounding rhythms of unwon wars..
but that sound
that sound beneath my bones is
bursting marrow...
bursting... not blood
but feathers
those,
those feathers
have kept bones from shattering
into ivory shards
under the pressure of miles
and miles
and miles
of black briney seas
and those
those downy peices
have kept me
whole and
kept me sane
dispite the bludgings
dispite the pain...
and you,
and you
with your curious ears
can hear inside that something
strums louder
when you rest your face against me?
is it the sound of drums waged
against unwinable wars
or is it bones
bursting marrow and feathers?
do you haunt me?
or do you free me?
do you, with your curious fingers
damn me or release me?
Place your head against my ribs
again, touch the bones beneath
that pretty porceline
and tell me what you hear...
you hear nothing
you hear absense
you hear calm
your hear breathing

Introduction

This blog is a method to see my writing process in one place. How I, an undergrad at Bemidji State University am going to piece the many pieces, into patches, into tapestry into something with pages that can be read and that have the ability to shake the reader. My goal is honesty. My goal is to create an utterly, unfiltered, uncensored, and unrestricted passionate and hopefully digestable story that tells not only my story, but paints an image of the people and the places that made it so damn entertaining. This is an attempt, a terrified attempt to throw my words into a face that can literally stare right back at me. Here it goes...