You can
deactivate your mind
you can numb your senses
you can plant flowers
where the weeds have died
you can look out across
your summer vines
and smile at the good work
your hands have done
but deep down you know
that the sun will turn to butter
and will no longer be able to
push away the heavy rain
you begin to listen to the
ugly cry of the black crow
and you see the wings of
small birds becoming tired-
tired of fighting against
the angry wind
you sit down and you feel sad
and it is your sadness-
you own it-
you take a deep breath
you hold it for a while
you let it go
you feel happy again
happy that you are
still able to feel...
Clay.M

~
the night starts here,
the night starts here
in the dunes,
fixed in time;
incipient waves falling into place,
their subtle purpose
to roll over and sing;
the fountainhead above us,
like it's above the shore,
attaching softness to a shell.

we blew on a dandelion
and the whole world disappeared;
love is a mysterious shape,
love is a remembered rhythm.

I have trembled
my way deep,
I'm a guest in here,
drinking at the stream,
seeking bliss in
the plural homemade kiss:
peppermints and orchid rain.

we please the night,
we please the night in interlude,
and it merrily leaves us that strand
of pearls called "good morning."
~

I rollover on the bed
face the wall
stare at the lines and cracks.

I give the wall a talking to,
tell me lies. I'll tell you my lies.

and i'm telling the wall,
the future looks bright. i'm planning
my own crazy, this time,

i use a black magic marker,
draw a wide rectangular
picture window across the white wall, then

sand, seashore, and sea stacks in the ocean.
can you smell the salt air?
i'm asking my wall.

don't look at me cracks,
like that.

the wall sighs,
and the bones of this old building
reply with a moan.

i'm inventing my own madness, so

look,
the sand pipers
are darting here and there
across the sand
avoiding the gentle lapping of the waves.

and the long wing shearwaters
flying low, gliding,
just barely above the tips of waves.

i'm planning my own foolishness.

some loves last for so long
like a song without a name
and you never know
when love will walk into a heart

and I'm going to run
far away
from sidewalk ledges
rooms with cracks in the wall,
far away from here.

and, Oh, wall, hang not the albatross around my neck.

get old

get sick


and die


it's normal

Little leech
Grow fat-

**** bad blood
Between toes

Drop off into
Swamp

Heal the Ancient
Sole

Big foot imprints
whorl of
weathered sole
on sand
rock
and heath.

how well will
we let them
disappear
when reddened sky
falls silent