John Charley
nest high in skies
switched-forth and off;
and out are stations lights,
of satellites rowed, looking
every panel, cabled switch and plate,
packed-back from down
every thing of morning-ward earth
to an in-built of heaven-ward-sky
where lonely is the only head in there-
from this lone loneliness air
nothing's alone, where below are eyes;
more is muse, than clouds are moving
or only sun, saying to pass-
poems uncensored, and where they tune,
different lists from a different base-
reception hues, smooth without sand,
tuning, where turning clears;
and when time is here command is sent,
and same time command is here
in earliest. As hearts have stopped
thinking, begging from thinking
(than beg or pay for frequency too)
from the ground, grounding oncemore.
©️ john charley
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