I would wake in freight,
Screaming your name.
Where are you?!?
But you never came...
As the years grew,
I called your name less.
Knew you didn't care,
You never did,
And never will.
it felt good to leave the tourists behind
---with their cast-iron grated stairs
embrace the woods:
soaking wet approach,
brinks of shivers in the dripping wind,
an old, broken filter
slurping bubbles from a cardboard tired puddle;
whisperlite stove finally working,
the first cous-cous dinner warms our little white dog
dreaming on my rising falling chest
pressed by sleeping bag and snort and sigh;
we sleep our psoas sore--
unknowing we have just begun...
haven't yet begun!
yet bodied abject pain to shock our senseless raw
with scoured glimmer-vasts of love beneath
a frozen fly on Frosty Mountain
zippered hail in midnight breath,
i pee in numbness gusts--
i bite my smile ice,
whoop the sleeting world for we are here at last.
Grander eyes than could behold the sea could hold it.
Gentler heart let in its warm-shifting light,
Quieter hands hold ever changing tides.
More than mirrors set before the quivering soul,
More than pumps and cables across the waves,
More than whisp-like palms stirring starry skies.
This lens could sweep the tapestry of ocean plains.
This web electric hold its deeper soul.
Our grave and searching thoughts probe greater worlds,
Than ever did these lesser eyes behold.
everyone's at war
with different things,
with each other,
and with themselves
nations are at war
our families, at war
our friends, at war
we are at war
but the hardest
war of them all
is the war between
the mind and the heart.
For the sake of art or the sake of it
I went back to the seaside
With seagulls screaming in my ears
And a cocktail of cold water and sticky sand
Clutching between my toes
And a boulevard filled with joy
Ecstatic children revisiting the magic
Of blue sea and blue skies
And the beaches are full of women
Hoping the tan will convince their men
To rekindle the spark
Of what was once, and how and when
Holidays like these meant everything to them
While ships pass by like silent witnesses
As time slides and slips away
Sometimes it is truly better on holiday