As she decends with
Impulsive intensity,
she both illuminates and suppresses.
The saturated colors
assuming a temporary transparency,
cling desperately to rebellious shadows
which darken and grow tenacious.
But all the fervency is muted by the magnitude of the moment,
And watching,
I and all things of human effort fade
and in the hush surrounding
the greatness of that hour,
every breath
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
Imagine letting this drink slide
through my fingers…
Potential falling dense and heavy
Toward a concrete death,
like lead through the barrel of a gun.
I imagine, in slow motion,
the silence of this
fall…
.
. .
. . . .
and
the gentle clink
as glass kisses stone.
Imagine the bravery of living
in the moment.
To watch the surge of liquid
rising up against gravity,
The velvet glide of ice
across a hot surface,
and the shattering of glass.
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 5:41 PM UTC
This is clearly not what you expected friend, is it?
And how long was it that you waited?
Anticipation shed a glorious light,
Light falling on dancing shadows.
And you trace those shadows on my face.
Where you find beauty beneath darkness
Mystifies me
Mar 16, 2013
Mar 16, 2013 at 1:07 PM UTC
I
Now I have been you
walking indifferent
with you walking
opposite.
I haven't noticed
that you haven't
noticed me.
I didn't return
your glance,
I was checking traffic,
crossing the street,
and dissapearing.
II
Now I have been you,
holding
the hand-blown glass sphere
in my hands.
Were you conscious,
as I should be,
of the necessary delicacy?
Did you notice
the intricate composition,
or have we both grown
too familiar
with our object?
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 2:05 AM UTC
Vacant, ancient, old man Barney,
What do your excess of wrinkles imply,
On what impulse did I frame your gaze,
What does this picture before me lie?
Why do you stare on through me,
Through what I do and what I am?
Though I knew you, I know you not,
Who were you old man?
Lately you cast a fear on my heart.
Today there's a path where my tears have been.
Where does the newborn baby you were
Hide in your shriveled skin?
My children are playing among my feet,
Happiness lies in their way,
Can you be here to remind me
To fix my eyes on today?
To etch my wrinkles in delight,
To carve the crevasses in play,
To hold the hand of one I love,
To fix my eyes on today.
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
How quickly the threat of fire delineates,
how fast it distiguishes true value,
This small house, egostitically settled,
shivers at the thought.
I gather photographs and consider
what would burn - more than 'Jamesborough Gold,'
More than books and careful decor.
Strange things, esoteric, would burn:
Evaporated sweat,
purified through restless labour.
Dreams and designs,
the whispers of hope.
Inconsequential memories.
Familiar smells and atmosphere.
Strange things irreplacable would burn.
One storm passes and this nights fear settles,
like dust, among other unassuming memories...
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 2:22 AM UTC