There is a place
In my mind
Where time
Melting - into an endless moment
Stretches out
A gently inclining road
That rolls over
The flat bands of grass
To a point
Where it meets
The overhanging sky.
There is no end.
Only this journey.
And it does not need
To bromate through the cold spells
Or wait for the perfect moment.
It does not cling
To things
The way we do
Bending our lives
Into the shapes
Of our hurts.
It only flows.
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 5:20 PM UTC
While the purple martin
Sings his dawn song
The bush crickets
With their scraping chirps
Form a washboard percussion
Beneath an orchestra
Of crinkling goosefoot.
It is not the sobriety of
This great Weald
And the stately occlusal
Of her tall trees
That crowds your soul.
But the ordinariness
Of the things beneath it
That make you want
To find your own voice.
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 8:31 PM UTC
In the early morning
The larimar sky
Stretches out
Over the ashes of the night
While the clouds
Retted stalks of calcite
Do their toucan crosswalk
Over her duckcloth.
And the sun
A golden mattenklopper
Sprays a burst
Of painted flames
On the trees and grass beneath
And life is
Clean and fresh
And ready
For this new day.
For so long
I have been looking away
Looking forward
While my eyes
Might have been
Filled up
With the beauty
Of all
That is
In the here and now.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
Each heart
Is a spinneret
Her threads
Woven
Into an aortal retinue
A glistening floss
Iced white by the sun.
And each soul
A strand
And each strand
A connection
And each connection
Luridly stretching for miles.
No trowel can break
This web
And though the stands are different
Between your web and mine
They were spun by love
And because I love you
What is dear to your heart
Is dear to mine.
Jul 23, 2017
Jul 23, 2017 at 3:43 PM UTC
There is a kind
Of deliverance
In each day
The way the sun
Rises
A fattened berry
Full of dripping light.
And the trees below her
Glisten
To wakefulness
Under her watchful eye
While the shadows
Slip like small snakes
Down the branches
Until they disappear.
Such beauty.
Such promise.
I do not know if this life
Has purpose
Or if my prayers
Are a sigh
Carried by the wind
Into nothing.
It does not matter.
Nothing in the world
Would matter
If you were not here
To give it meaning.
Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 7:28 PM UTC
There is a faint watermark
In your voice
A hint
Of something
Deeper.
Your eyes
Dart about
Keeping time
With your vagaries
Until you hit
On your truth
- And then
They are
Rat sharp
And unblinking.
A secret
Is so superior
A hushed whisper
Bugled
From mouth to ear.
It gathers words
As it moves
A novel in the making.
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 4:37 PM UTC
Lots of ways
To sting the heart
Words with poison
Aimed like darts
And the buttery
Canorous tone of your voice
Like sugar on arsenic
To make it taste nice.
Many ways
To clear the air
Ocean dulse
Black as tar
And all I do
Is dredge this deep
And bring up things
Best left asleep.
Many times
We’ve gone too far
Like hackled dogs
That spoil for war
Panniered
Like two pack mules
Laden down
With all our wounds.
Lots of ways
To let this go
A sunset in its
Orangey throes
But a white-flagged wave
Of armistice.
Will never stop
This revenant.
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 3:25 PM UTC
You took the road
A million others have taken
But you took it alone
A troubadour
The watery strain
Of your Orphean ballads
Too much for
The other myrmidons
So they left you
To wilt the willows
Alone.
Acetone will not unhinge
An epoxy this old.
You’re stuck
In another place
Another time
And though the man
Who put you there
Is no more.
You’re still quaking
In the aftermath
Of his seismic waves.
And others
Though once ensorcelled
By the sight
Of beauty in pain
Are now repulsed
By your entrenchment
In its vines.
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 1:14 AM UTC
We shot through the ground
At the same time
And while you pushed your way
Towards the sun
Drinking up the light
I cleared the gravel
So the others
Could find their way too.
Weeds
Have to be quick
Lest they end their days
Under the hiss of a spray bottle
Or the blunt end of a shovel
So I learned to hide
Between the sunflower minstrels
And the corned eared zinnias
While you stretched your
Peppered veins
To lap up the rain
And poison what fell to the ground
Choking
Everything.
You were a giant child
And yet I loved you
Deeply
So deeply
Only the mole crickets knew
And I hated you too
Because I was nothing
But a ****
Beneath your feet.
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 1:12 AM UTC
Cassandra
Cursed prophetess
The Debbie Downer
of antiquity.
A beautiful anathema
Embracing life
With the gaiety
Of a dirge.
And all her visions
Dire imprecations
That rouse most to anger
And others to label her
A liar and
A madwoman.
Poor pretty
She’s not miserable
She’s a mathematician
A causal cleric
Formulaic
But people don’t need answers
They need hallucinogenics.
It’s much nicer living in a haze
Where nothing is clear
And you don’t know where
Your mess ends
And some one else's mess begins.
No one's responsible
And everyone gets to live
In a big pile of ****
Together
As one positive family
Attracting abundance.
Until the Trojans arrive
And pull the blind folds off
And then she gets to say
- I told you so
But nobody likes
Smugness.
Poor *****
She’s the **** Jagger
Of the Agora
She can’t get no
Satisfaction.
Feb 5, 2017
Feb 5, 2017 at 1:05 AM UTC