Ephram Pratt Is Informed of Melodic Words
Celebratory as a
sparrow swallowing ink
scratched from the pen
of a silver poet
moving through
dying trees at dusk,
he finds fellow-travelers
wooing the spiders
and salamanders
inching their way
through the ether,
climbing trees of dust
and singing in
silent voices
heard only because
of the melodic
words tendered by
licentious artisans
practicing their arts
and showing their wares
in total abandon
of the virtue of invisibility.
Ephram Pratt Seeks an Invisible Door in the Sky
Frigid and living
in a bubble,
the voices he hears
are in shades of gray,
glossing over
his inconsolable
turgid nerve ending,
growing out of
belated seeds and bulbs,
gone before
his illusory targets
are taken from
the invisible door
he sees in the sky.
Build on the passing
dreams he
sketches in the air,
the ones he howls
and cries aloud for,
draining the emotions
from the illusory odor
he remembers so fondly.
Ephram Pratt Explores Imaginary Creatures
Spells assumed by
frozen bell jars,
taken in token silence
from sagely decorated
vibrations of cold fingers,
worn and radicalized
by too soft cream
delicacies.
Forge his hands and feet,
forward like
licorice awnings
veiled in silence,
by training wheels
hidden under
the soft fur of
an organdy intellect,
sewn into the backdrop
by a virgin seamstress
locked in combat
with dreams of
fairies and elves,
gnomes and brownies,
framed in secret
by wallowing urchins.
Jack e Lorts, a retired educator, lives in a small town in eastern Oregon. His “Ephram Pratt” poems appear widely online. Author of three other chapbooks, his collection “The Love Songs of Ephram Pratt” has appeared recently from Uttered Chaos Press.
