Copyright ©2019 All rights reserved by the author.
“Every Atom Belonging to Me”
Poets grab their words from ghosts,
that rise as fog, from the floors of spring.
They utter things blind to the eyes and silent
to the ears.
What the bards say comes from the ironic
dust of lips, living, dead and yet-to-be born.
Those sly, slinking, zigzagging spirits
state their dictums
in the green, unbridled blades of grass,
that shoot up from the dark ground
with all the similes, metaphors
and symbolism,
which mouths make move by wind.
Consider Whitman’s vast, un-pruned
lawn of emerald thoughts,
flowing his fire over the graves
of Gettysburg’s dead…and indeed…
all our dead. Walt’s voice was not
the ill-born breath of blight and disease
that came with the Civil War. It was
the newly-ignited star up-surging wind,
boundlessly blowing sky and sea
through Eden’s Garden,
before the Fall and after it.
Experience made Whitman’s
season-stepping verbalisms
volcanic and vacillating. Up
from Etna’s oven came Walter’s
words, dimming and glowing,
destroying and creating.
What pages from what books
will ever grow from the greenery
of your mind,
in spring, summer…or beyond?
The woods are a temple
for the singing birds…
the fields of grass
are the great churches
where our souls come
to be born or to die.
About the Poet: Michael Mauro DeBonis is a poet and a historian from Long Island, New York. A graduate of both Suffolk County Community College (A. A. in Liberal Studies) and SUNY Stony Brook (B. A. English), Michael’s work first appeared in the Village Beacon Record and the Brookhaven Times Newspapers. Michael’s current work can be found in the New York History Review and elsewhere. Michael is dedicated to studying and to learning the history of the great State of New York.
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