William Bloomquist

William Bloomquist
3 Poems

Grace for a Power

Dark is perfect
Light is perfect
Dark becoming light
Is more perfect

Some days I feel no more sentient than a lightbulb
The way I feel very simply
Turned off or on by ideas

Some bright days I have the mind to be ceiling
And a voice to call from above
Looking down but not down on you
Worshipping you while you think
I want your worship

Worshipping you and your motion
For the way it expands outward from origins M
ulti-directioned but singular in purpose

Like the prism that splits sun rays and
Lives beautifully in the consequences
I descend into the chaos of your imaginings
Lean left and right into the polarities of being and
Find androgyny in the quick flickering of you
Rushing in and out of your room
Forgetting things as you try to leave for work

In and out, off and on, in and out, off and on
I am also that lamp tied to a switch
I am electricity at the mercy of your hands
I am power with no need to capitalize my name

I lock myself into the physics of circles and loops,
Arrive at a math that is as much true for me
As it is for anyone. Demonstrating:

Everything is attainable

And:

Nothing is sustainable

At your mercy I divide from one
At your mercy I become
At your mercy I hold my tongue
Despite the dangers, despite the misunderstandings
Despite the proclamations
The mistaken histories of me

Some things, though wrong
Don’t need correcting

I swear this to myself
I build worlds around it

Some things, though they lack
Don’t need perfecting

I wear this idea like armor
It protects me from many weapons
And accidental flicks of the switch.

 

You May Call Me This

Tell your loved ones
And only them
How you loved me

How you let me take over your hands
And move them as my own
How you let me whisper through your lips

Though I did not beckon
Or ask to be felt
You noticed me without surprise

I do not withhold from he who is ready
He who reveres wisdom
He who desires me may feel all he pleases
And you did

You may call me this
But to your loved ones
Tell them I have no name
You understand
Though they may not
That I am by any other or no name at all
What I am

Oh, how many eyes look over me
And past me
But you saw me
So I showed you what I see
And in your desire to understand
You came to see yourself
I poured out for you and you drank
Water from the well of life itself

Tell your loved ones
And only them Tomorrow, and only then

How when you left
I left you open
So you could stitch yourself back together
Over the next however-many years
In a manner that pleases
Both your eyes and mine

Come back and visit me

You may call to me and I will answer
You may call me Bella

Invitation

Every circle I know
Is struggling to complete itself

In this economy?
As soon as you’re done, you’re beginning
And I don’t know if a shortened life
Means there is any less chance
Of getting back to the point

How difficult it must be for the moon
In her perfection
To nightly forgive the wrongs
We do under her watch

I thought to myself
In a moment of reflection
When her message arrived
In the reflection of my watch:

When ready to crash
Or be crashed into
There will be no resisting

Soon as you are invited
You will be there

 

William Bloomquist, 29, is a Kansas native and multi-discipline creative. As early as middle-school he was a poet, but after picking up guitar in high school, started writing lyrics and songs. He also spends time in the visual arts (drawing and sculpture/collage work) having participated in Wichita’s Final and First Friday events multiple times in both the musical and visual realm. William is currently assembling his first book of poetry and is looking to publish in 2020.

To read more about William Bloomquist or to ‘hear’ his music, visit WilliamBloomMusic.