i.


the stars do not shine
loneliness presses the air
into a tangle of last years withered
leaves,
loneliness in summer leaves
that whisper to a grey moon
a song of regret.


ii.


dreams of midnight,
cool rain,
songs more alive
than this low-roofed night.


iii.


teardrops like the ghostly moon, lost
against the heart that
flutters like a dark sky
breathing stars.
  

iv.


the mottled horizon
pools into greys,
tender eyed with
soft sadness,

in these dim hours when silence
cloaks the woods and
human laughter disappears

we sink against the softer sky
and the slow fade of moon and
long for dream, for everything
to reawaken and unwind.


v.


we are swimmers heading as far
out as we can get. surreal silver
stars, opening like flowers,
refusing to drown.

Remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly
and clearly;
and listen to others, even the dull and
the ignorant; they too have their story.

The years of my youth, my sensual life --
how clearly I see their meaning now.

What needless repentances, how futile....

But I did not understand the meaning then.

In the dissolute life of my youth
the desires of my poetry were being formed,
the scope of my art was being plotted.

This is why my repentances were never stable.
And my resolutions to control myself, to change
lasted for two weeks at the very most.

I dig a hole in myself
and fill it with words

there is no color for regret
this fist of hindsight clenched in my stomach
sitting heavy, firm and uneasy

i can't paint over this lingering, wholesome sorrow
splashed in my lamentable eyes

the agony is blind and cannot feel its way out of this dark corridor
the uneasiness is more real than the feeler

repentance is stuck in my teeth and gnaws at my tongue
discomfort catches its fingernails on the chalkboard recesses of the past

regret

regret

the neon open sign flickers and its fumes are toxic

I want to write a pop song for you,
To spiral and loop in your head
As you apply your shampoo,
To constantly reappear
Through the airwaves,
Drowning out your lunch break
With force-fed thoughts
Of you and I
In that wet afternoon,
That train-stop goodbye;
Darling you were the last breadcrumb
I ever thought
Would leave me behind.

Lovers in the lines disappearing
Folding fading

Hazy in the midnight
Waning grey

My eyes were flickering lights
Passing stories unsaid
And a comfort I can’t remember

Curve gone crooked
I left my head here
I left my head

Misread your softness
Misspoke some promise
Blurred in the wind