dark small cloud dropped rain.
still, the small birds sing

but I fill in the blanks of thought with black panthers
they watch you closely as days lose their names and time moves in all directions
no ordinary dreams in the present continuous of flesh
but some flashes of certainty:
the colour of my tears suits you well,
distant is the moon from its own doubt

1
Drawn into the vortex
Of your life

By a formulaic
'How are you'

Hoarding memories
Like misers
As if identity were
A Thing
A Table, measured
And crafted

2
Or Self-real
When the very
Galaxies with
Dizzying speed

Belie the very
Notion of
Being

Amorphous time
Boxed,
Bagged fog pieced in
Handy seasons

Anniversaries
Of Nothing,
Events
Commemorations,

A drubbing of history
And nullification
Of failure.

3
No lights dim
City life

No Spring
Penetrates the
Screen

Plato sits in his
Cave
Weeping darkly,
Counting
Bodhidharmas
Eyelash
Over and over
Again

Tried to write
Wordless Poem

Perhaps succeeded

But could not share
So

What is the Use?

1
The spin of
Light and dark
Will stop

And following-

An overflow of
Red love or

The blank stare

Of nothingness

2

One day i held you

It is enough

3
Never and again
Will darkness spill
Over the edge of
A bowl
Shimmered into
Light,
Vibration of the miniscule
Energising the mighty

i know you have been dreaming,
i won't disturb your sleep,
we've always been together as if we have one birth one breath,
wildflowers,
wildflowers,
we've always  been together at sunrise and sunset,
we never missed one day one night,
and now,
my darling,
and here,  my dear,  the time arrived and i will kiss you,
and i will give  you a goodbye kiss
as wildflowers have no spare ideas,  and don't care where they grow,
and don't care where they dry
and die,
and they will always be there, somewhere, there, out, like love,
in between the clouds and the stones,
in between the drops of rain and drops of hearts
tangled in the grass, thank god we don't have to cry,
and if we do
there is no need to hide our tears and be the subject of madness
as we can grow anywhere, anyhow, as wildflowers do,
in the soil or sand, in the rain and sunshine,
in the storm,
on the mountains,  and watch the eagles fly and dance,
and watch the eagles as they vanish behind the clouds,
behind the sky

revision April 27 2001

Recrudescence

(Recrudesce: to break out
again after lying latent or relatively inactive)

My friend,

There are doors which even you and I
have never opened. Shut for so many
years I am slammed back against
the sink of meditation.

Drawers unopened, their loneliness
stuck shut, slipped behind hinges.
Whole cabinets of dust. I wore many
selves. Stains hang here so far
removed from conversation
as to be little calciums. Calculi.
I rattle with little bones.

But since you ask….


Viz.:

When the gun was pressed against
my head I sat more still than a
fig on a summer tree, more breathless
than a whisper, more quiet than the
center of that fruit, It’s stem
my hair, I felt it's roots
take. I was sixteen.

I always wondered if the red dye
of my fear rubbed off on him.
He was silent, his face the only light
in the room, the phosphorescence of
madness. He couldn't find
me I guess, inside my aubergine
stillness.

He was a steel shaft in
his hand. At last he slipped
to the door.

In the end, unbreathing,
I saved him.

Ego te absolvo.

I was so afraid he wouldn't
like me anymore.