Verse:

You’re the footstep in the snow

I might not always see you

But I will always know

If you’ve been here before


So draw me with a pencil

And color me with chalk

Remember me when you’re here

But forget me when you leave


Pre-Chorus:


I know I’m just

Embers among stars

I know I’m only

Leaves within fleece


Chorus:


But I can be your silence

Till all language cease to be

But I can be your mindless tune

Till all songs lose their melody


Verse:


You’re the wind in the willow

And I’m seeds of memories

Forsaken in the furrow

Waiting to be set free


So hum me like a wordless song

And mold me with dust and rain

When you cease to be near

I will also cease to be


Pre-Chorus:


I know I will always be

Flecks of color

On your masterpiece

The words you’ll never speak


Chorus:


But I will be your lighthouse

Till all land becomes the sea

But I will be your canvas plain

Till there’s no more scenery to paint


Outro:


Even if you’re just my fragile love

Even if you’re just my butterfly dream

Illusive murano flower never touched

Elusive hummingbird among twigs and leaves


I will always love you

Till we are stardust of

Once upon dreams

I had been dreaming
about eating bruised peaches
that grew from a tree
by the river, its water
thick and sweet as sap.

I thought I saw an old woman
shaking her dustmop,
but it was only the moon
and stardust in the dark
that never stops.

In the fields
there was something barren
like a journey
and echoes of salt
sprinkling on a table
with food laid out for a wake.

The fog from the dream
by the river was smothering;
I was suffocating lying there
where it is said a young mother
once walked into the water
with the pockets of her dress
stuffed full of smooth rocks.

I woke when I heard
shouting that tore out the light
as night came flying by
like a bird dressed for a feast
wearing his finest black feathers.

a beginning
part 1

the words hit our hearts, and sink in to stay, to pledge another stage set, small life…….

part 2

the ending of a tortured love affair
would have been easier

no

i will rather have cold…

part 3

what was there before the nettles? stung, the memory creases with the look of bones. left in air. who was here to write the words on stone, the plaque.

part 4

passed over by accident, the thing ocured naturally, without clerics. without beatitude. given by friendship, yet piety slowly eroded. they come now with learning, holding large words, a different language. the charm now gone,…

part 5

exhale.

Epilogue:

a ragged poem because it’s not focused. the concept is lost in the wrapping.

liking rags
i move on
with differing
music

the trial by glass

Smoking butts from ashtrays
And twice-cooked coffee grounds,
Bumming coins from my neighbors
And searching for change on the ground.
Mayonnaise sandwiches daily
And buying ramen by the case
I switched from Coke to iced tea.
I like the difference it makes.

Being poor is a decision I made
It affects virtually everything I do.
It took away some of my decisions
And life is suddenly quite new.

I lay my shirts and pants out flat
Between box springs and mattress.
I’m learning how to cook for myself
And to do better laundry I confess.
I use my friend’s laundry room
And bless him every time I do.
It’s a lovely thing he does for me
So I try hard to reciprocate too.

Being poor really teaches me
What is necessary in my life.
I learned I can survive quite nicely
Using a McDonald’s plastic knife.

I don’t have cable or a cell phone.
I walk and take whatever bus is near.
When I need something like socks
I scrounge and play things by ear.
I go to second hand stores a lot
And yard sales with my few dollars.
And yes, my clothes are getting sad
My shirts have rather fuzzy collars.

Being poor became my choice
When I realized I didn’t have skills.
I catch whatever jobs I can now.
I sure hope poverty doesn’t ****.

Fear waits upon its prey
where the light is a shamefaced girl

wind is a fragmented guest
where silence fools the unwary

to chirp the birds forget
where the baiter might be the bait

the hush is not all white
as in that ever ruling night
blood is spilled without sound.

Forlorn as the lovers' lost track
meanders the creek
in moans for the lost
shedding its sighs to the tides.

Sister, I tremble in the shade
Of your impending absence feared
Its shadow looming ominous
Sister, does anything ever die?

Brother, this place that we have made
Our garden mutually beloved
And all things must pass to dust
Brother, is permanence a lie?

Sister, if the leaves are golden now
We may be sure they’re soon to fall
We are not immortal evergreen
Sister, you won’t forget to pray?

Brother, though I know not how
I’m sure souls needn’t finally part
But did the poet weigh his words
Brother, can nothing gold e’er stay?

Sister, gold is too precious for rust
But listen to the call, ahead
We cannot neglect our course
Sister, are you glad you came?

Brother, although part we must
And suffer heart-strings joined to cut
Love, still whole, knows no regret
Brother, you won’t forget my name?

Sister, though the country’s breadth
Brings doleful separation on
Love’s memory scorns the divide
Sister, is it not true?

Brother, O, it feels like death
When love bridges the awful gap
It splinters, weeping, grieves the loss
Brother, what can I do?

Sister, dear, look to the Bread
The cup divine, I am outpoured
Souls mingle in the Victim’s blood
Sister, shan’t we run this race?

Brother, I see now in the Head
His every member blessed and joined,
And so unbound by space or time
Brother, there we shall embrace.

Could the sun be
    just
    a hole up there—
    that if I could leap
    would enter that breach of light

Someone!
   Throw me a line!
   Give me a reason
   There’s never enough
   in this life of breathing!

Someone!
   Explain why dreams roll a soul
   toward the cliffs of day
   Wakes to ache
   then stuffs its mouth
   with necessary same
  
Inhale—
   button shirt—brush hair
Exhale—
   necessary glance in the mirror
   (yes, still there)    

A lifetime!
   in a shallow instant’s stiff clear water
   (Yeah— still there)  
   in endless caverns of tired eyes
   above mouth still trying
   to say SOMETHING!  
   from ever smaller eternities
   in the glass-flat empty....

Please! Someone explain!
   this draw of breath
   one forcing itself upon another's
   life
   of beating —
   Violence in my chest!

Why hearts don’t sleep—

and I wind up watching
again and again—till
I am the ******...

...Morning lies
   in the mists of a humid *****
   who moans and sweats
   and boils her hips—
   and I wind up watching!?

“Will someone please…!"

   ...and I wind up watching
   bedspread, bed sore, death bed
   till you’re breathing easy
   when she sits and picks
   her collapsed bouffant
   damning the makeup
   that got crushed in the sheets

…Morning
Lies--

   with no expectancy
   both tired of knowing...

   ...The Devil lost his balance
   in my presence one night

...tired of knowing—

THE WILL!  
THAT WILL!

  ...walk away
   or continue to play

   I could open this screen!
   watch the world STEP BACK!
                                 SLAP FLAT!
   as trees and dwellings flush like quail
   to prop their tottering panic
   against the blue—

You—assume composure...
   compose assumptions
   Await my next—

Move like a spy

If I could
pinpoint the
exact moment
your breath
touched mine
washed me over
in ocean waves
sea creatures glowing
in delightful recognition
as the seedlings
of connection
shimmied into our being
and, dancing within me
in its own lifeforce
your mind a living,
breathing animal
your heart, purring
and whirring its sacred forces
into my molecular structures
your soul throbbing
in mitochondric pulsing
(oh what
a delicious vibration
of ribosomes)
Between us, we hold
the true treasures
close, in frothy
                       tenderness
a purity of the expanse
of our universe,
swathed in prismatic color
colors that shift,
these fresh hues
for which there are no name
they are lucid and fine-woven
as silk histories
yet deep as earthcore
your eyes, voice
are forever burned
into my own
every day scriptures
that rock my shattered parts
into wholeness
and,
like ancient magic,
I conjure forth
the holy gospel
rising from our bones
every second of
every minute
as our deepest fires
our most secret filth
our murky corners
our darkest hours
we weave into light
brilliant and lustrous
multi-layered in the richest
folds of the earth
and as you place me
upon the shores
of your garland-graced
                              throne
Now I'm alive in a new
kind of light
and
all I can do
is love
        and love
and love