July 22, 2017

Poetry: “Fealty”

My god does not reside
Above the steeples of kakistocracy;
I spy him within color wheels.

He manifests in between
Matutine moments
Of oenomel contemplation,
And irenic retrouvailles
Of truth in self.

I learn to cultivate
The soul’s unwavering whisper,
Despite the loud lisp
Of hymnal limerence.
I replay the gospel
Of eudemonic composition:
Joyful stories
Told through sound.

No, I do not bow to him
To obscure disobedience –
I worship to affirm
Amative perseverance,
And seek no throne,
Other than the fealty I call
My own.


“Fealty” © Jane Bled 2016-2017


Colors vision © Maksym Filipchuk | File ID: 4812495 | Dreamstime.com

In this my green world

Flowers birds are hands

They hold me

I am loved all day


“What There Is” — Kenneth Patchen, American, 1911-1972

No need to doubt it.


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About Jane Bled

Dreaming, writing, singing. Curious queer human. Soul-deep; heart speaks.


All Things Jane Bled, Free, Poetry, Writing