we are
the
burning candles
that hang
from the
night sky
upside down
that move
this heaven
that move
this earth
around
all the stars
that we see
with our eyes
at night

The Blue Falcon, cross the spire,
Waits in the gables of the white
House.  Wounded in youth by crush
Of air, spent, a wisp perched
In the aerie dark with a view of mountains
Blue as ice under glacier.  The wooden
Church from the other side clutches
The sky but the Falcon blue is lost
In a tuft of cloud that bobs but never
Kills.  On this strike he is sheathed in stealth
The dull talons slip as they dry
In the tented air, the songbirds at play
In the high-ground underneath warble
And chide but the Falcon cannot hear
The Falcon near.  His heart is soft
And muted in the breast, his ears
Are dumb to their tickling-songs.  

Before the Falcons time, over
The tilling fields, dropped his world
In the spoils where splendour burst in green,
Rain meant the feathers ran and the woods,
A banquet of game, were bounty's breach
Fording blue currents he was
A fisher in the sun, but the sun
Sank in his drowning sky no store
From plateau to quarry the drought of days
Moved a castle felled in the dancing
Dust, his wings broke in the shuttered
Eye of the sun and etched his form
Into grey silhouette.  

Now, the Blue Falcon, jeered
In the branches of the rooted air
Above the yellowed grass, under the pines
And a great blue mountain, stirs a Druid
Shape, vaporous, in the cauldron
Of the attic in the white house
A throw of stones crossways from
The sacred yews of the steeple spire.

You craved my curves
while I craved your mind
that's why you were too busy ******* me to notice
that I was trying to undress your mind

you say you don’t feel,
you say you don’t care,
but I know once you get attached,
you love fiercely and loyally,
that you won’t let anyone hurt those you love,
I know that’d you tear the world apart for us,
and even if I object to being saved,
i know you’d try

The rising moon has hid the stars;
Her level rays, like golden bars,
  Lie on the landscape green,
  With shadows brown between.

And silver white the river gleams,
As if Diana, in her dreams
  Had dropt her silver bow
  Upon the meadows low.

On such a tranquil night as this,
She woke Endymion with a kiss,
  When, sleeping in the grove,
  He dreamed not of her love.

Like dian’s kiss, unasked, unsought,
Love gives itself, but is not bought;
  Nor voice, nor sound betrays
  Its deep, impassioned gaze.

It comes,—the beautiful, the free,
The crown of all humanity,—
  In silence and alone
  To seek the elected one.

It lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep
Are Life’s oblivion, the soul’s sleep,
  And kisses the closed eyes
  Of him who slumbering lies.

O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes!
O drooping souls, whose destinies
  Are fraught with fear and pain,
  Ye shall be loved again!
No one is so accursed by fate,
No one so utterly desolate,
  But some heart, though unknmown,
  Responds unto his own.

Responds,—as if with unseen wings,
An angel touched its quivering strings;
  And whispers in its song,
  “Where hast thou stayed so long?”

She holds the sun in her right hand

And the deepest ocean pours
from her left as a Niagara of
dark expectations

flowing to me with words
that soar and swoop pecking
and clawing

Oh how I need the moon and
pull her close in a feigned kiss
while my hand creeps like a lizard

to set it free like that guy released after
thirteen years waiting for the chair

Oh how that embrace has wrecked me
as a car that followed too close

I pulled her tight to steal
what she had herself snatched
when the stars weren’t looking

Her breath was red wine and I drank
and the weight of her breast on my arm
crushed my resistance

and I loved her again oh as a universe

and let her keep it tucked away