instead of any other place
i'll take this one we've stumbled on
through our mistakes and what we've done
this cluttered sacred space
unscared to face the universe
or even time's misgiven hell
as come and go long winters' chill
rehearsal of the obvious
your unrepentant love is all
the paradise i apprehend
though do not say i understand
how spirit cares to make its call
wake up these old but willing bones
i'll sing your praise in quarter tones

tonight we have good wine good song
no talk of any old remorse
no judgment of the the things gone wrong
just life encouraged on its course
such courage as siddhartha shared
outside the gates on any road
that anyone could take who cared
to ease a pilgrim's heavy load
eavesdropping on the universe
sad echo by the waterside
whose pleasure falls denied and cursed
you come to me another's bride
unsatisfied and passionate
your trembling lips so delicate

slide down impulsive lover spring
give succor to my ailing soul
i'll not repent the imaging
of soft mayflowers round the pole
some sweet & innocent warm air
you make where my recovery
in seasons that do not despair
remaking ground from aspen tree
mercuric goddess come again
that i may find that hidden song
discover what should long have been
pure joy which comes where you belong
reclaim slick pleasure summers bring
accept my ardent reckoning

you wouldnt know why would you know
to see him wearing cardigans
from pampered lambs and leather shoes
exported by italians
her eyes disguised by powdered base
and shimmer that accentuates
unbruised remainders of her face
that they had argued very late
designer shades pulled forward strands
a matte upon discolored neck
conceals the pattern of his hands
white hat long earrings misdirect
our short attention from the fact
that silence speaks repeated act

straight up this middle of the night
awakening and jotting course
its pull a pattern not much worse
than habits said to risk good sight
long hours with our sin displaced
responsibility in dreams
dealt more than winking jack's and queens
by some grim counter of the days
this steady need to find a lost
connection to the human cant
leaves games hard played with thinking bent
against all necessary cost
slip out your unrepenting tongue
by which dark mysteries get sung

should i in love expose my heart
as you decline to recognize
this stiff endurance is an art
such long consideration lies
in measures laid out on the sheets
in melancholic midnight trysts
in black and white in crooked beats
in my misgivings mortal lists
be in this day a flowering
of all that's sown before the sun
a wager on the coming spring
where coverings are all undone
what slithers through your southern lips
it's own hard way finds heaven's slips

-


Lines border my eyes like new roads
to more distinguishing characteristics,
signifying for me many a morning frown.

I draw my face closer to the mirror to
examine them in more detail, mapping
pending destinies laid fresh like asphalt.

Traces of purple fans out from the exterior
corners, I think of them as ink spatter that
gets larger every time I endorse

a small check.

I cannot stop the runs but I can
hide the evidence with concealer
creams and foundation,

establishing a façade upon which
the viewer will find as pleasant
from just the right                          
                                       distance.

I stand back just so approximately
from the mirror to admire
an illusion of youth,

and then move forward once more
to fathom the texture
of experience—

"Maybe less this time" I think,
have I not earned the right ?


s jones
2011-2021

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