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c rogan Jan 2024
I thank the moon
sensuality and scrying in black clear pool
what veils keep
full disk brightens sheer membrane
lilies open
snowdrops retrace delicate steps
pull back fresh white sheets
morning arrival stretching growing resonating closing
departure shrinking suffocating apology
taken off in navy blue clouds
outline rainbow hallows
midnight clouds lift
sunset pollen constellations scatter
golden handmade paper
cut and torn seams
repurposed cloth covering
calm enough to fall asleep with
curled against her sweet face
I’ve never dreamt until a deer
casts a shadow on my shadow in dim blue light

I thank the moon
c rogan Jan 2024
first was I was naked at night in the woods stepping into a cool little pond that was glowing & misty & then moss started growing up my legs & covering my body

second the moon was on earth the size of a beach ball & neon electric blue color - it was outside my bedroom window looking at me & radiating blue wavy ripples and covered the ground around me & went all over my body
c rogan Jan 2024
endless tirades of drunken tea, 100% cotton or cashmere.  mahogany polished, spiraling printed hallways and open rafters, dry summer heat and white gravel driveways.  the love for the deafening, harrowing silent divide.  not a single measuring utensil in the kitchen.  write a letter, seal it, see it off.  the leader and only follower.  holding someone’s hand that isn’t a lover.  sleep in the same **** bed, thin and worn but the softest feathery pink threads.  earth’s pulse slows, a meditative house.  pluck haloed moon threads to braid ritual belief.  art is observing closely, within, slowly, away.  it is fast, fire, air.  it is every sacral deranged golden filament scattering in sun-caught beams and rays of listening acutely to ecological love songs. awake from dreaming, downstairs on the wooden stool before the early sunlight, the days and days for her and her.  brushing one head of hair became two, became the sisters she longed for.  the rituals we seek.
c rogan Jan 2024
asserting sleepless wounds cut like a knife
indenting and pulling splinters from tables
it tastes of forest paths
fungi returning sky to syllables
acres of where
veils descend upon twirled twine
fraying between fingers
frantic
numbing
november rains writing cursive letters
fastening the earth
slanting struck match
l’épée of cedar within smoke
upon incense glow
they assemble reeds
in dying light, retreat, stories upon dreams upon memories within our never-ending

the wall fell away: sun evaporates landscape, the cars, the ever present concrete, orchids resurrect inside, clawing fern wallpaper flowering baby’s breath doused in illustrious orange light thick as down blankets
graphite illuminates curves of bodies, a womb and a heart, 1063 degrees of interconnected

living in a greenhouse, northern frosted January feathers wood paneled, southern carpeted floor
salt covered opaque film
musty smell of ancestral altars
pianos tuned in the last century sing Austrian lullabies, purple wood peeled back, smiling gaps of teeth veneer cinnamon hues
the spirits of those we never met
but share cupids bow, brown eyes, high cheekbones,
the hunt for the perfect wine cap

the daughter will have a daughter, the sun crests over the mortar, up delicate tendrils of transpiring verdant circumnavigators
it’s midnight and the sun hasn’t moved an inch —// it spreads between webs of fingers, behind my teeth.  pulsing red clay with fingerprints, rabbit tracks, deer paths carving the canyon as spirits float by ‘’’
attune to them, sulfur in the dark

winter threads needle’s eye
turning wheels again and daughter knows
what grandmother thought
of sumac and dogbane, oxeye daisy and lemon balm
crescent moons imbedded in palms,
striped shells from freshwater creek click against teeth
trusted within sand, ever-present spine, joining figments and childhood never-ending
sand spills through fingers, breath before the ocean, terracotta speckling periphery of view

I can imagine, now, what she sounds like
c rogan Sep 2022
i open voices
singing lights
photographs have strings
lingering loud and open

i ring the moon
hollow and bright ceramic fruit
guitar crickets linger
the night, the moon, a deep night read aloud.

strings and lights and drives
carve open your voice
hallowed stars swallowed whole
c rogan Sep 2022
skin, so
carry all meadows
lingering, souls grow
reluctant to sweetness
wayward hauntings
age for it all
astray, longing
to untitle your name
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