To A Sea Uncertain
I gave myself to the river,
walked out of the rushes,
waded deep the rush,
laid myself supine
in her currents
never pulled
by the moon
but led along
by instinct alone,
afraid no more to let
nature take her course
and me to a sea uncertain
Friday, May 27, 2011
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
The Stars Hold No Rain
Grow 'til tall.
I will carry you
even after you are.
The trees protect us,
so climb, reach for the clouds,
the stars hold no rain for saplings to suckle.
Stand on my shoulders
and pocket the open sky
to keep in your cedar box.
Even the sun sleeps,
so close your eyes and dream,
the night holds the tomorrows you awake older.
Grow 'til tall.
I will carry you
even after you are.
The trees protect us,
so climb, reach for the clouds,
the stars hold no rain for saplings to suckle.
Stand on my shoulders
and pocket the open sky
to keep in your cedar box.
Even the sun sleeps,
so close your eyes and dream,
the night holds the tomorrows you awake older.
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
All Animals (I-VII)
All animals,
fossil futures'
muffled humming beneath the weight
of sediment and stone, quietly churned
to oil
Our lamps light landscapes,
the dark of day broken
by a bowl of starlight -
the missing mass of matter
found in filaments of galaxies -
dead and buried we join the soil,
a final bedrock resting place
To lie down
with a thousand dead horses
in the fields of Little Big Horn,
To sink down
with remnants of mastodons
in the asphaltum of La Brea's pits,
To fall down
with the weakest of an elk herd
in the dead, dark of Alaskan winter
Burn the last of what is left,
tall stands, hardwood mausoleums
of organic communion where
the time of Christ is marked
with rings,
just the same as yours or mine
The birds know no religion,
but fly closer to Heaven
than those who pray,
tame the beasts
for burden,
though a name for all
enslaves not even a single one
Our songs,
our books,
our tools,
our science,
our religion,
our progress
All impermanent,
as all animals succumb to time,
and we are only one of many
despite our imagined dominance
All animals,
fossil futures'
muffled humming beneath the weight
of sediment and stone, quietly churned
to oil
Our lamps light landscapes,
the dark of day broken
by a bowl of starlight -
the missing mass of matter
found in filaments of galaxies -
dead and buried we join the soil,
a final bedrock resting place
To lie down
with a thousand dead horses
in the fields of Little Big Horn,
To sink down
with remnants of mastodons
in the asphaltum of La Brea's pits,
To fall down
with the weakest of an elk herd
in the dead, dark of Alaskan winter
Burn the last of what is left,
tall stands, hardwood mausoleums
of organic communion where
the time of Christ is marked
with rings,
just the same as yours or mine
The birds know no religion,
but fly closer to Heaven
than those who pray,
tame the beasts
for burden,
though a name for all
enslaves not even a single one
Our songs,
our books,
our tools,
our science,
our religion,
our progress
All impermanent,
as all animals succumb to time,
and we are only one of many
despite our imagined dominance
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
The River Before Me
To ford the river before me
I must consider
the boy who comes after me
His eyes wide, reflecting the great Western Expansion
His features betraying an amalgam of Old World relatives
- Swedes, Germans, Irish, Austrians, Russians, Scots, Brits -
All of whom forded an ocean broad, upon sail and upon steam
Upon the dreams emanating from the headwaters of imagination
A stream of consciousness
I must consider
With this river before me
To ford the river before me
I must consider
the boy who comes after me
His eyes wide, reflecting the great Western Expansion
His features betraying an amalgam of Old World relatives
- Swedes, Germans, Irish, Austrians, Russians, Scots, Brits -
All of whom forded an ocean broad, upon sail and upon steam
Upon the dreams emanating from the headwaters of imagination
A stream of consciousness
I must consider
With this river before me
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
Shining Like Discovery
Jamestown found me,
a lost soul looking for a lost colony
"To belong, to belong, only to belong."
Round and round I had once gone
only to find, to face me again left alone
"To belong, to belong, only to belong."
Until westward ho I went
beyond rain worn memories soaking a soul
"To belong, to belong, only to belong."
The spirit of her auburn sun
shining like discovery for a lost explorer
Jamestown found me,
a lost soul looking for a lost colony
"To belong, to belong, only to belong."
Round and round I had once gone
only to find, to face me again left alone
"To belong, to belong, only to belong."
Until westward ho I went
beyond rain worn memories soaking a soul
"To belong, to belong, only to belong."
The spirit of her auburn sun
shining like discovery for a lost explorer
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
A Rhyme, A Round (Rain, Rain Come Again)
Rain, rain comes
then goes away
Souls swim the sky
in its damp aftermath
Green beyond green soaked
and almost glowing
From a covered porch
we wait for last lightning
Thunder heading on and up
the unsuspecting coast
Sun finds her smile
and squints upon thick air
Spirits sing a rhyme, a round
of rain, rain come again
Rain, rain comes
then goes away
Souls swim the sky
in its damp aftermath
Green beyond green soaked
and almost glowing
From a covered porch
we wait for last lightning
Thunder heading on and up
the unsuspecting coast
Sun finds her smile
and squints upon thick air
Spirits sing a rhyme, a round
of rain, rain come again
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
Up Upon Air
I have walked on and on
until levitation took my heels
and lifted them up upon air without
weight or any inference I did not belong
amidst the wings, wind, mountains, and souls
I once found myself earthbound below grounded by
mortality, gravity and a confidence hidden by the clouds
I have walked on and on
until levitation took my heels
and lifted them up upon air without
weight or any inference I did not belong
amidst the wings, wind, mountains, and souls
I once found myself earthbound below grounded by
mortality, gravity and a confidence hidden by the clouds
Thursday, May 26, 2011
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
Map Of My Blood (A Sanguine Atlas)
Lost somewhere in the map of my blood
forming memories from farm landscapes -
The Upper Peninsula's
Apple orchards picked before frost's kiss,
Cotton fields' soft white
in the fading, insect-bit light of Arkansas,
Pecan trees shook empty
in the dusty broom sweep of West Texas
Florida's citrus handpicked
by weathered, worn hands of immigrants
- Fruits found in their labors somehow
informing the folds of a sanguine atlas
Lost somewhere in the map of my blood
forming memories from farm landscapes -
The Upper Peninsula's
Apple orchards picked before frost's kiss,
Cotton fields' soft white
in the fading, insect-bit light of Arkansas,
Pecan trees shook empty
in the dusty broom sweep of West Texas
Florida's citrus handpicked
by weathered, worn hands of immigrants
- Fruits found in their labors somehow
informing the folds of a sanguine atlas
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
Mercy's Kiss
I break beyond me,
I break wide open -
my bloodied, swollen tongue dragging
back roads that lead to dark, damp woods
where the bodies lie dead beneath dirty leaves
their ghosts still begging, bartering for mercy's kiss
- I turn a deaf ear,
I turn a blind eye
I break beyond me,
I break wide open -
my bloodied, swollen tongue dragging
back roads that lead to dark, damp woods
where the bodies lie dead beneath dirty leaves
their ghosts still begging, bartering for mercy's kiss
- I turn a deaf ear,
I turn a blind eye
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
A Body of Water Evaporating
... fog emotions;
you cannot see what
I have hidden
between skin and bone,
between blood and the beating
that keeps these feelings
alive and willing
to wander alone
landscapes
I have carved from intuition,
where haze burns slowly off
above a body of water
evaporating...
... fog emotions;
you cannot see what
I have hidden
between skin and bone,
between blood and the beating
that keeps these feelings
alive and willing
to wander alone
landscapes
I have carved from intuition,
where haze burns slowly off
above a body of water
evaporating...
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
Reaching For A Heaven We Already Hold In Our Wandering Hearts
A pilgrimage across
strange topography,
unnamed,
uncharted,
unbeknownst
to your bright eyes,
to my curiosity's survey.
Jaguar shadows
follow our bushwhacked,
beaten back, Braille deer paths -
they inform the light breaking above, upon, beyond
the ridge our compass thoughts desire to reach before dusk.
The trees stand with their crucified limbs before us
reaching for a heaven we already hold in our wandering hearts.
A pilgrimage across
strange topography,
unnamed,
uncharted,
unbeknownst
to your bright eyes,
to my curiosity's survey.
Jaguar shadows
follow our bushwhacked,
beaten back, Braille deer paths -
they inform the light breaking above, upon, beyond
the ridge our compass thoughts desire to reach before dusk.
The trees stand with their crucified limbs before us
reaching for a heaven we already hold in our wandering hearts.
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
Map The Stars By Counting Birds
map the stars
by counting birds
your night eyes nest
beneath a blanket
the moon lights
the day's last flight
map the stars
by counting birds
your night eyes nest
beneath a blanket
the moon lights
the day's last flight
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
Sudden Ridges, Certain Valleys (To Begin Again And Again)
up ahead,
a rest stop,
a scenic overlook,
the sign in a shutter of light
going by at seventy-five miles an hour
says so
we are tired,
light is falling orange
out our back window
and we want only the
absence of color
sleep can bring
but on we go,
miles revealing themselves
in sudden ridges,
certain valleys,
in our desire to get back
to where you and I began,
to begin again and again
up ahead,
a rest stop,
a scenic overlook,
the sign in a shutter of light
going by at seventy-five miles an hour
says so
we are tired,
light is falling orange
out our back window
and we want only the
absence of color
sleep can bring
but on we go,
miles revealing themselves
in sudden ridges,
certain valleys,
in our desire to get back
to where you and I began,
to begin again and again
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
Follow The Geography
Mt. Ranier rained fog
on my parade
San Diego blew, blustered,
flustered my best instincts
Pine Ridge poisoned my prairie footsteps
across bad lands bleeding Hepatitis C
Charlotte left lust not lipstick on my collar
as I lay in dawn's gutter
Dallas offered redemption
too wide to embrace for my sling-slung arms
Boston bled me of all my naiveté,
the Charles River flowing between who I was, who I would become
Mt. Ranier rained fog
on my parade
San Diego blew, blustered,
flustered my best instincts
Pine Ridge poisoned my prairie footsteps
across bad lands bleeding Hepatitis C
Charlotte left lust not lipstick on my collar
as I lay in dawn's gutter
Dallas offered redemption
too wide to embrace for my sling-slung arms
Boston bled me of all my naiveté,
the Charles River flowing between who I was, who I would become
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
An Absolom, Not An Abraham, Am I
Swallowed the endless sands
for a son.
The deserts of my dreams
run wild with the rivers I have waded,
weighted.
Arriving
by surviving
cancerous light
carried from another corner
of a universe unaware
I am holding him up
not in sacrifice,
but in adulation.
An Absolom, not an Abraham,
am I.
Swallowed the endless sands
for a son.
The deserts of my dreams
run wild with the rivers I have waded,
weighted.
Arriving
by surviving
cancerous light
carried from another corner
of a universe unaware
I am holding him up
not in sacrifice,
but in adulation.
An Absolom, not an Abraham,
am I.
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
Unmapped
i wander a mirage of geography
ghost cities, phantom landscapes
run my hands through opaque rivers
flush my face in the rouge of urban rust
blacken my palms with the rush of prairie oil
each and every tree a witness to feeling, to thought
boise, bethesda, birmingham
orlando, omaha, oakland
yakima, ypsilianti, yuma
the land runs red beneath my pale skin
the skin turns black beneath a cold sun
lay down with your dead
climb a cloud collapsing
sin can never follow a saint's apparition
walking unmapped in others' memories
i wander a mirage of geography
ghost cities, phantom landscapes
run my hands through opaque rivers
flush my face in the rouge of urban rust
blacken my palms with the rush of prairie oil
each and every tree a witness to feeling, to thought
boise, bethesda, birmingham
orlando, omaha, oakland
yakima, ypsilianti, yuma
the land runs red beneath my pale skin
the skin turns black beneath a cold sun
lay down with your dead
climb a cloud collapsing
sin can never follow a saint's apparition
walking unmapped in others' memories
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
Faits Accomplis
rock broke away from the coast,
tossed in the teeth of gunmetal waves
- here, then there -
until I lost sight of it
the moment left time behind
and all that remained
was the stone-dead-silence
of billions of years
and their aeonian snapshots
of time at a stand-still
marching me all the same toward death,
with no malice, only another moment
awaiting recognition before it too is lost
to the grey, endless fluidity
of geological time,
nothing more profound in store
for similar, inevitable fates
rock broke away from the coast,
tossed in the teeth of gunmetal waves
- here, then there -
until I lost sight of it
the moment left time behind
and all that remained
was the stone-dead-silence
of billions of years
and their aeonian snapshots
of time at a stand-still
marching me all the same toward death,
with no malice, only another moment
awaiting recognition before it too is lost
to the grey, endless fluidity
of geological time,
nothing more profound in store
for similar, inevitable fates
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
As Mutable As
the lake churning outside
below/beyond the bluff,
metaphor stitched surgically
from the inside out
to my internal organs,
where the grind and retreat
of its glacial origins,
the indifference and absoluteness
of its storms,
the vast fog-shrouded infinities
of its horizons,
lie in wait, mimicking movements
of curl, crest, break, collapse
where mood meets emotion
as mutable as quicksilver
framed by panes of glass
the lake churning outside
below/beyond the bluff,
metaphor stitched surgically
from the inside out
to my internal organs,
where the grind and retreat
of its glacial origins,
the indifference and absoluteness
of its storms,
the vast fog-shrouded infinities
of its horizons,
lie in wait, mimicking movements
of curl, crest, break, collapse
where mood meets emotion
as mutable as quicksilver
framed by panes of glass
Monday, May 23, 2011
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
The Raw Of The World
Outside a window,
in the raw of the world
The wind,
a rustle of razors
through new leaves
And spring's
warm rain
waiting to explode
in the wake of thunder applause
Beneath
the ionized air
hovering above,
across green grass, more green
in contrast to a proscenium of grey
As a fox plays the silk light
for its better than even odds
against a rabbit no longer able
to outrun its shadow
Outside a window,
in the raw of the world
The wind,
a rustle of razors
through new leaves
And spring's
warm rain
waiting to explode
in the wake of thunder applause
Beneath
the ionized air
hovering above,
across green grass, more green
in contrast to a proscenium of grey
As a fox plays the silk light
for its better than even odds
against a rabbit no longer able
to outrun its shadow
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea / 2011
The Rivers I Have Hidden From The Sea
Night,
don't end.
Don't
leave me
here,
to face the day
alone.
I paint myself,
in varying colors -
scream red
from a lost mother tongue
of my German blood
buried below layers
of liver-spotted skin,
scar tissue,
and choking veins.
I swallow blue,
spit back the salt of oceans
beyond my understanding -
the black of water yielding
only a scribble of stuttering white
to even the fullest moon.
The eyes of my wife
hold more secrets
than all the depths
with their bone armies
at ease,
mute beneath the rhythm
of the waves' unending lament.
She sleeps,
I dream
and try to fathom the rain
outside falling through darkness,
steady and slow,
but enough to fill a heart
by morning, the suffocation of sleep
stealing night again
from my imagination
full with chalk effigies
of puddled moons
and submerged stars.
Clouds come
cover the sun,
dusk waits impatient
at my wet feet
for the deluge of dark
where art is free to follow
the rivers I have hidden from the sea.
Night,
don't end.
Don't
leave me
here,
to face the day
alone.
I paint myself,
in varying colors -
scream red
from a lost mother tongue
of my German blood
buried below layers
of liver-spotted skin,
scar tissue,
and choking veins.
I swallow blue,
spit back the salt of oceans
beyond my understanding -
the black of water yielding
only a scribble of stuttering white
to even the fullest moon.
The eyes of my wife
hold more secrets
than all the depths
with their bone armies
at ease,
mute beneath the rhythm
of the waves' unending lament.
She sleeps,
I dream
and try to fathom the rain
outside falling through darkness,
steady and slow,
but enough to fill a heart
by morning, the suffocation of sleep
stealing night again
from my imagination
full with chalk effigies
of puddled moons
and submerged stars.
Clouds come
cover the sun,
dusk waits impatient
at my wet feet
for the deluge of dark
where art is free to follow
the rivers I have hidden from the sea.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Beyond Belief
I'm amazed by your love,
a spring in a perennial bloom,
a beauty so beyond belief it begs
the question, "Maybe this is heaven?"
I'm amazed by your love,
a spring in a perennial bloom,
a beauty so beyond belief it begs
the question, "Maybe this is heaven?"
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Buried Our Own
She knows my four brothers,
they have moved in shadow
all of this time we have
danced the sunlight,
moonlight together,
their faces pale
beyond woods
where we
buried
our own
for coyotes,
wild, lost dogs
to scavenge flesh
that looks so familiar
but is only ever skin deep
and devoid of all connection
to a true genealogy of the soul
She knows my four brothers,
they have moved in shadow
all of this time we have
danced the sunlight,
moonlight together,
their faces pale
beyond woods
where we
buried
our own
for coyotes,
wild, lost dogs
to scavenge flesh
that looks so familiar
but is only ever skin deep
and devoid of all connection
to a true genealogy of the soul
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Without Absolutes
The tight knot came undone,
left me without absolutes
to anchor myself upon,
condemned my soul
to a future fully
bound with
failure.
Instead
I stepped
from my shoes,
the deadly weight
of staying stationary,
moved on and well beyond
failure and beside good fortune.
The tight knot came undone,
left me without absolutes
to anchor myself upon,
condemned my soul
to a future fully
bound with
failure.
Instead
I stepped
from my shoes,
the deadly weight
of staying stationary,
moved on and well beyond
failure and beside good fortune.
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Sustenance
I cannot forget
the hunger in my heart,
wanting only to hold your hand
which still satiates me near a decade on.
I cannot forget
the hunger in my heart,
wanting only to hold your hand
which still satiates me near a decade on.
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Birds Gather Stone-Silent
You are beautiful music to me.
I hum you, distractedly during the day.
Birds gather stone-silent at my window in wonder.
The song in my heart twice as sweet as anything they sing.
You are beautiful music to me.
I hum you, distractedly during the day.
Birds gather stone-silent at my window in wonder.
The song in my heart twice as sweet as anything they sing.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
En Far Melankoli
Cold,
Late spring whetted with emotion
My small boy sleeping,
I hide the world for the time being
A lump wells in my throat,
The lies of my own childhood splitting chapped lips
Take me by the collar and pour me out,
The stammer of my recorded voice betrays me
His mother inadvertently shaming saints,
The snow tomorrow patient enough to wait today
I will hold the shadow of his ego in my hands until dawn,
Between beats my heart stops to sob
The hum and only the humming,
Apparitions, folk songs out of thin air
Nordic landscapes linger,
I cannot escape my dead relatives' dreams
The emotion of years hangs frozen,
I walk awake the night alone with the stars
Cover his slight frame with fleece,
May has forgotten her promise
In my mind I wake him,
We will listen together to Schumann before he becomes a man
I cry quietly exhaling condensation,
I too was once this small and smiling, fragile sun
Cold,
Late spring whetted with emotion
My small boy sleeping,
I hide the world for the time being
A lump wells in my throat,
The lies of my own childhood splitting chapped lips
Take me by the collar and pour me out,
The stammer of my recorded voice betrays me
His mother inadvertently shaming saints,
The snow tomorrow patient enough to wait today
I will hold the shadow of his ego in my hands until dawn,
Between beats my heart stops to sob
The hum and only the humming,
Apparitions, folk songs out of thin air
Nordic landscapes linger,
I cannot escape my dead relatives' dreams
The emotion of years hangs frozen,
I walk awake the night alone with the stars
Cover his slight frame with fleece,
May has forgotten her promise
In my mind I wake him,
We will listen together to Schumann before he becomes a man
I cry quietly exhaling condensation,
I too was once this small and smiling, fragile sun
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Of A Love Like War
You made me march on to the sea,
set ablaze everything that came before,
shoot the starved and sad, skeletal horses
I had ridden half to death searching for you,
made me leave behind a sky surfeit in smolder
of years trapped in the trenches of a love like war.
You made me march on to the sea,
set ablaze everything that came before,
shoot the starved and sad, skeletal horses
I had ridden half to death searching for you,
made me leave behind a sky surfeit in smolder
of years trapped in the trenches of a love like war.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
The River Time We Abide
our faces familiar
but different than before
from the one-another we both knew
the fuzzy-lit dream
of those years ago flickers
faintly, dull across our aging eyes
skipping frames forgot,
swallowed in the rise and rush,
the rhythms of The River Time we abide
echoes of Heraclitus
resound the same in our ears
as they do in canyons still carving
and so we heed his words
though whetted, weighted with regret,
"You cannot step in the same river twice."
(*)
acknowlegement to Bronwen Dickey and her essay, The Last Wild River,
http://bronwendickey.com/writing/the-last-wild-river.php
our faces familiar
but different than before
from the one-another we both knew
the fuzzy-lit dream
of those years ago flickers
faintly, dull across our aging eyes
skipping frames forgot,
swallowed in the rise and rush,
the rhythms of The River Time we abide
echoes of Heraclitus
resound the same in our ears
as they do in canyons still carving
and so we heed his words
though whetted, weighted with regret,
"You cannot step in the same river twice."
(*)
acknowlegement to Bronwen Dickey and her essay, The Last Wild River,
http://bronwendickey.com/writing/the-last-wild-river.php
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
A Pilgrim's Sure Progress (Beyond Taut Gospel)
No more cigarettes,
Old, cold beer, unopened
In the big, white refrigerator
All my vices
Put on hold
At present
A Buddhist,
A Puritan,
An Ascetic
I
Am
Not
My past is rife
With a predilection
For impulsive excesses
All of it fogging
My own critical thought
And a pilgrim's sure progress
But there beyond taut Gospel
Still hangs my more colorful self
Hidden between the black of a wardrobe
No more cigarettes,
Old, cold beer, unopened
In the big, white refrigerator
All my vices
Put on hold
At present
A Buddhist,
A Puritan,
An Ascetic
I
Am
Not
My past is rife
With a predilection
For impulsive excesses
All of it fogging
My own critical thought
And a pilgrim's sure progress
But there beyond taut Gospel
Still hangs my more colorful self
Hidden between the black of a wardrobe
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / poems 2011
No More Rain
In the aftermath,
a taste of sparkling, pure ozone,
the warm breath of residual sodium chloride
No more rain in our shoes
slowing our advance
A Utah of our own
no longer a mirage
beyond salt roads,
across open water
No more rain in our hearts
submerging our love
In the aftermath,
even our tears taste less alkaline,
the fruits of our labors sweet on our tongues
In the aftermath,
a taste of sparkling, pure ozone,
the warm breath of residual sodium chloride
No more rain in our shoes
slowing our advance
A Utah of our own
no longer a mirage
beyond salt roads,
across open water
No more rain in our hearts
submerging our love
In the aftermath,
even our tears taste less alkaline,
the fruits of our labors sweet on our tongues
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Hold Me (In Your Burning Arms)
Smoke pouring from our mouths
Exhale, exhausted
Still running a line on fire
Hold me in your burning arms
When day/decade is done
Inhale, exulted
Remembering the hour of immolation
Smoke pouring from our mouths
Exhale, exhausted
Still running a line on fire
Hold me in your burning arms
When day/decade is done
Inhale, exulted
Remembering the hour of immolation
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Unaware Of The Weather
a decade old photo in a box,
forgotten
the two of us, smiling,
somewhere
warm,
cold,
sunny,
overcast
unaware of the weather
coming our way
carrying
him
brightening every imaginable
meridian
despite
our storms,
locust skies stalking me,
floods sweeping us from our feet
a decade old photo in a box,
forgotten
the two of us, smiling,
somewhere
warm,
cold,
sunny,
overcast
unaware of the weather
coming our way
carrying
him
brightening every imaginable
meridian
despite
our storms,
locust skies stalking me,
floods sweeping us from our feet
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Walking Mists
She is out walking
mists my whetted words
try to follow through a thicket
of razor rain and gale-driven thorn,
a trail left littered with occasional remnants
of love's letters punctured, soaked and bloodied.
She is out walking
mists my whetted words
try to follow through a thicket
of razor rain and gale-driven thorn,
a trail left littered with occasional remnants
of love's letters punctured, soaked and bloodied.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Wheatstone
milling English
with mortar and pestle
- subtlety slips away on the wind -
grinding lines
of their rough coarse
- distinction falls dusty at my feet -
hewing letters
into oak permanence
- discretion rises to the occasion -
milling English
with mortar and pestle
- subtlety slips away on the wind -
grinding lines
of their rough coarse
- distinction falls dusty at my feet -
hewing letters
into oak permanence
- discretion rises to the occasion -
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Cautious Auburn Beauty
cautious auburn beauty
I know
it's been slow coming
and sleep has slipped
elusive
beyond our own dreams
where we awake to wake
one another
from slumber's insomnia
checking our calendars
carefully
for a decade we deserve
cautious auburn beauty
I know
it's been slow coming
and sleep has slipped
elusive
beyond our own dreams
where we awake to wake
one another
from slumber's insomnia
checking our calendars
carefully
for a decade we deserve
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Wind, Silk, Twig and Wax
Strawberry girl watches
through sinking windows,
her own homemade aviary,
her freckles still evident even
beneath the years of May dew,
cupped and kissed to wash away
sad memories which refuse to pale
or fly away upon wings she fashioned
from stitches of wind, silk, twig and wax.
Strawberry girl watches
through sinking windows,
her own homemade aviary,
her freckles still evident even
beneath the years of May dew,
cupped and kissed to wash away
sad memories which refuse to pale
or fly away upon wings she fashioned
from stitches of wind, silk, twig and wax.
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Jealous Setting Suns, Waning Crescent Moons
Jealous setting suns, waning crescent moons refuse you their light,
the sky dims then darkens daily beyond your luminous face,
leaving a world in stark contrast to contemplate
why I revolve around you alone.
Jealous setting suns, waning crescent moons refuse you their light,
the sky dims then darkens daily beyond your luminous face,
leaving a world in stark contrast to contemplate
why I revolve around you alone.
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Two Rachels
Two Rachels wait,
greet me as I come,
and kiss me as I go,
but I will only ever know
the one who came after
I arrived for the first time
and never really the one
that waited alone for love
all those years before
we found each other
standing in our own
lonely shadows.
Two Rachels wait,
greet me as I come,
and kiss me as I go,
but I will only ever know
the one who came after
I arrived for the first time
and never really the one
that waited alone for love
all those years before
we found each other
standing in our own
lonely shadows.
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
She Carries Apples
She carries apples
in the fold of her plain dress,
walks the sheer, windswept bluff
above the beach where water's rhythm
works the same as a memory of those days
that have drown or have leapt to their own death,
gathering sand as they move in, then out of her mind
as she reminds herself of the gravity that has held them here
with a toss across a pale shoulder of first a Gala, then an Empire,
and last a Fortune foretelling the distance between yesterday & tomorrow.
She carries apples
in the fold of her plain dress,
walks the sheer, windswept bluff
above the beach where water's rhythm
works the same as a memory of those days
that have drown or have leapt to their own death,
gathering sand as they move in, then out of her mind
as she reminds herself of the gravity that has held them here
with a toss across a pale shoulder of first a Gala, then an Empire,
and last a Fortune foretelling the distance between yesterday & tomorrow.
Her Cautious Auburn Beauty / new poems 2011
Her Words, Weighted
Her words, weighted with
the death of a father, the longing
for the lapping whose rhythms she rides
upon the sands of sleep and the ephemeral
imprints of paths taken, forgotten, abandoned
despite their disappearance from dream geography
that cannot hope to ever hold the fossil record of a litany
as eponymous and lyrical as her own name's four syllables.
Her words, weighted with
the death of a father, the longing
for the lapping whose rhythms she rides
upon the sands of sleep and the ephemeral
imprints of paths taken, forgotten, abandoned
despite their disappearance from dream geography
that cannot hope to ever hold the fossil record of a litany
as eponymous and lyrical as her own name's four syllables.
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