Love Poem: Choices and Voices
Yorn Called Avatar
Written by: Yorn Called

Choices and Voices

Choices my dear one,
So many choices, 
So few voices,
Some near,
Some far,
Some to fear.

A path.
Clear and chosen.  
The erasure of a closing.
The logos of math.
The trajectory of wrath.
The conciliatory legislation blindly ruling the cosmos of grammar.
The armies of polygamous trees,
Surrounding a clearing,
Whose rape and unfinished business they mock,
Burying the done and said,
Under a rock of institutionalized madness.

Is it clear my chosen one?
That to grasp a voice,
Is to ring it out loud with hidden force,
That the hands of gratitude are not to smile with,
But to Kill with,
That the miles of rubbish tracing the serpents path,
Maketh the man?

We are the marksmen,
We are the delineators,
We are the one of the eye that stares,
We are the voice of the she-wolf who understands,
We are the what that will die for the who of birth,
Or fall apart,
For that which once belonged together.

The we of nothing else secedes from the noise,
The eye of seeing looks with poise at every star,
The they of everything refuse the choices in the sky,
And we,
Select just that star whose standing apart,
Fixes all the worlds answers.

Our star,
Our voice,
Our choice,
And nothing else.



To act, to make this compact, to hoist yes,
From all the no’s that fly in the midnight sky,
Like lightning bugs worshipping freedoms void, 
The you and I of we must trust,
The noises that buzz like muzzled ship saws,
Singing shady songs of clamors proof, 
Splitting twos and threes, 
Into truths and false cities.  
Trust?  
Our hearts and knowledge thus?
Of what must we put aside our lust?  
To know and say no to all,
We disdain,
In the voiceless refrain of bugs,
Split ships and lies, 
All lies, 
All lies ahead, 
A head, two heads, our heads, apart.

Put them together,
Tear them apart,
Impart upon them,
Important pertinencies,
For now the opportunity,
To set things right, 
To bring the ship home,
Safely, safely into port.

The refineries of diction await,
With eager arms,
To make the right choice for now,
Distilling the wrong,
From yesterdays song,
Whose rapport,
Reportedly, 
Retorts,
With a gong.

In making all that was strangely far near,
In seceding the succession of victories throng,
In standing together under a lost forest stand,
We must succeed my dear,
In clearing without fearing,
In conceding without losing,
The pact we made,
Above all understanding,
That staying clear of what confused our eyes,
Our ears,
Our I’s, 
Is to hear that what was far was not far enough.

Our hearts hear this, but do you?

Our lust for an Other, 
Another day,
Gone tomorrow, here today,
Gone bye to seek, so to speak,
The fortune of choice’s wheel whose will,
Is so different than what we will,
By will of choice.

Let us refrain from this business,
The buzz and fuzz of bugging off,
Let us refrain from this busyness, 
The fuss and cuss of handing off,
Let us refrain from this sissyness, 
The kiss and miss of standing off,
Let us refrain from this Sisyphus, 
The must and bust of falling off.

Gathering together our will,
We will the will of choice, 
Willing the will thy will be done,
This ship of fools must not outdo,
The shifting news of what we knew.
Stay then with me,
Drift not from us, 
Trust the us in trust,
For all you knew,
Was all that was before,
Before we said it thus.


The danger lies in the way danger tries,
Indeed danger lies ahead,
Go then on your toes, go
Ahead, weave our story,
The text is there already,
We said it before, 
Weave and heave,
Word upon word,
Building worlds not apart but together,
Willing the text,
Of twos and threes,
Into the one,
That will never split our will.


Two faces,
A fierce heart of fear’s art,
A trembling hand of death’s dart,
Facing a firing line,
In lawful wedlock,
Waiting for time to outrun the sun.

One thing and word out of two,
You, me and all we knew,
The trace of love is to hear a heart,
The old is held together by the new.

This then is for sure,
Our text will endure.

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29.06.14 Jornjorn