The Power

by Vyt Bakaitis

is not an
exacting
language

but a gasp
that holds
to no clue

before a just
coaxing summons
brings on

exception
to every
set rule

*
My verbs don’t have
the dignity to make
a move my nerves
don’t dare show
or make jokes
even after the
laughs I can’t
join in
words are about
and can’t hold to
the essential thing

*
A push for a pulse
from here to there
a blindspot thrust
the moment’s trepidation
quivering before it goes
for all you know to show
You
free of a breath’s lease

*
High as the sky
is the place I remember

the wild wave struck before we could rally against it
so even losing count of the few of us there all before
we could think to prepare we might possibly be survivors
since we had our minds set and not a moment to hang on to

what could we care to welcome

the house no longer standing

a mudhole wipeout

though the sky helps
widen the highway
striving for air

*
After Parmenides my head wasn’t spinning when

I

started
stubborn as a mule but I saw the wheels had a

light

the color
in bands reeling backwards entrancing circles

overwhelm
my longing straining to stay on track so that

I

wished I knew

where I was heading a blinding resplendence grinding my ears
swells an arousing fresh allure the young girls just drop
their filtering veils to a glowing ember in winter as if
daylight isn’t sure the darkness can yield any light

I’m framed inside behind mighty doors
the terms being dealt favor could swing
either way so melt the keys to seal off
a whole new lifeline before its history
opens to reveal

a dream young as the storming moment

a voice beyond the reach of years

*
By the loose ribbon her hair makes
whoever might dare to claim her

will need to redeem her

though she said that and

it seemed to be true

the waiting was more than

a full measure of home