John Oestmann Poetry

@johnoestmannpoetry.com

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A book of structures and cycles and patterns.

Sliding coffin stones revealing Ancient memories of hist'ry's past Gasping for life again, our grandfathers croak Bless them and their sorrows. We respect the genealogies Of our own men, of our nations But close your eyes and feel the cross-pollination Heritage is not a straight line
0x2A76B | Ballista Nation Under Power's gavel and stormraids Security builds castles ironclad maidens Realizing dreams for the nation's nation Realizing realities were the other direction "We've rooted in now", dug deeply Books of our history unfulfilled yet Titanic ships and colosses snap king's reigns Watch slowest-motion catastrophe engage
Tomorrow talks about the Masculine Mystique Our boys now paint poetry, none of this weak s*** Faculties is whispering about humanities, the art, that's a start Replace our battle bruises with flowered streets, you'll see Generation g-father said "be a father, not a shameling like the Other", but rather stone-killed emotion, without commotion, Stoic veins, "be the same, because it's Heaven's game" If only you told OG-me to clearly see, don't you weep, Our truehearts were never to blame.
Geodesic Flashstick worldlines sculpt new spaces Twelve-armed blooms via coccoon-back contemplation Geodesic Starsmash snap into framelessness Echoed across spacetime maneuvering the reachout High skies flow below widened glass floors Whirlwind of soulspin trajectories zipline north Where avalanche compasses fail each turnover Welcome, welcome, little triangular-mind-ecology
Kinaesthetic Dream Archetypes spread like wings across shattered Maw Velvet undergrounds come and go, fifteen minutes or more Seldom do I ask who you are, Even though mystique heights hung foggy breaths on our wedding night. Rachel doesn't know how to peel oranges anymore, I thought about that a lot. Evergreen kids throat-singing around the corner - It says a lot, huh? It says a lot.