Michael Sean Maloney: Poems

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

across the street
the sun sequins the sea
the perfect blue sky
smiles and asks
silly
humans
why
are
your
lives
so
complicated?

a family gathers

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 10

a family gathers

a family gathers
at the foot

of the grave
in the shade

of a small tree
the gravedigger rests

upon his shovel
fires burn

by the roadside
and smoke hangs

like a halo
from the schoolyard

the children sing
salvation

salvation
one day

there will be
salvation

arc the air

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

arc the air

arc the air
and sigh

into darkness
what was

once
is now

gone

]and so grinds grief[

]the very pit of it[

]the incessance[

and there will come a day
to shake down stars
and rediscover

and there will come a day
to push sorrow aside
and wake wanting

but not today
and certainly
not now

astronomers

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 22

astronomers

astronomers
being astronomers

look through lenses
)warpedandtrembling(

to see
the u n s e e a b l e :

raw new light
still swaddled

in mists of ice
and dust

must we
make such attempts to measure the heavens?
we must

autumn aches

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

autumn aches

autumn aches
of crimson breaks
and gold mistakes
things we must
take up with rakes

autumn creases

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 25

autumn creases

autumn creases
with leaf releases
it never ceases
until it’s out of pieces

aut (um)ns

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 24

aut (um)ns

aut     (um)ns
(brella)     stum

bl     ing
h(ope)     less

ly      (ns)
unfet      te

(red)      let
ters       phoe

nix      feat
hers      all

mix      ed
un      done

fall       in
fun       &

fla       me
your       na

me      to
me

boughs bend

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

boughs bend

boughs bend
with heavy rests

of snow
the singe

of a wing
tips powdery down

white domed stones
city the river

a fox settles
in a fetch

of aspens
when was

the last time
you stretched

your shadow
untied yourself

and waded out
into the mystery

of things?
when did you

last wake
to watch

the first push
of new snow?

child

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 18

child

child
red

boo
ted

and
        brilli

ant
        laugh

        across
wet

        stones
cob

bled
         colors

fire
         light

fine
and

fall
that

         night
         white

a
         moon

         coins
the

can
als

clouds crown

Michael Sean Maloney 2d

clouds crown

clouds crown
the mountains

in drifts
of grey

and white
they twist

into sticks
of lightning

mist
into whispers

of thunder
uncountable dragonflies drop

and rise
to announce

such skin
and the rain within

drop

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 28

drop

drop                           down                            dirt
(love gently)                  (into the)

s           it
eed
f            it
eed
w          it
eed
n          it
eed

new roots
shoot
and stems
stand
to
the skyblue

                                                                      i do
                                                                      i do

drunkclumsy

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 29

drunkclumsy

drunkclumsy
with the drop

of it
tap past

to gather
dulling

in the doorway
god only knows

what
un

d e f e at e d
d e at h

does
with so many seams

breaking brittle by
and the sky

blue sky

full moon lifts

Michael Sean Maloney 15h

full moon lifts

full moon lifts
from left to right
saffron chants
unstill the night
shadows dance
in candlelight
lanterns ember
then ignite

      an
d
s
     of
t
l
y
d
r
    if
t
     ou
t
    of
s
    ig
h
t

green

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 12

green

green

bodies
of
bamboo
yield
little
to
the
wind
bending
just
enough
to
trust
what
is
not

seen

growling

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

growling

growling
in the distance

dark plumes
untent

ruffling
the color

of the sea

           out
side
                 in in
side
          out

whenfearshakes
thebreathfromourlungs

whenpoisonmeasures
toomuchintheblood

                                                          how do we
                                                                  return
                                                            to center?

                                                          how do we
                                                                  renew
                                                               beauty?

halloween birthday

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 30

halloween birthday

i was born
under the sign
of candy corn

he sweeps

Michael Sean Maloney 1d

he sweeps

he sweeps
the dead

leaves
into little piles

it is a simple task
but he is very old

and this light labor
exhausts him

) side to side(
( in h is h and s ) ( a b am b oo m broo m )

what will you do
with your string

of time?
the slow notes

of motion
the blood-red bells

of heartbeat?
how will you measure

the fire
and surprise

of silence?

i am humbled

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

i am humbled

i am humbled
by calder’s wires

by the music
miles monk

and mingus made
by the impastos

of van gogh
and van rysselberghe

by rodin’s
le secret

listen

the snow pillows
upon the pines

listen

the river breathes
across summer stones

it is all
one tongue
one language

there is
a reason
for this

i do not believe

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

i do not believe

i do not believe
in ghosts

but i am cordial to them nonetheless

i do not believe
in god

but from time to time i wonder how she is doing

i do not believe
in heaven

but i am curious as to what might be on the either side of this door

i do not believe
in the hell

but just in case i mind my manners

i do not believe
in the beatles

well actually i do and they are definitely better than the rolling stones

i have never witnessed

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 26

i have never witnessed

i have never witnessed their dawn departures
or joined in their preparations

what the taste of wind might tell
what clues the clouds or the sea reveal

but each time i wake and notice the boat gone
i keep an anxious eye to the horizon

i have watched their return enough times to now know
how to position the heavy plastic tubes in the wet sand

how to hold the bow perpendicular to the shore
to the keep the waves from washing in

where to place my hands
and the exact angle needed to lift and leverage the boat

rolling it onto the tubes
and then up the sharp incline of the beach

i have learned
how to help

so much so that two of the pescadores
now smile clap me on the back

and say
la próxima vez que vengas con nosotros

in the corn

Michael Sean Maloney 6d

in the corn

in the corn
er of

an autumn field
i found

the body
of a fox

(it was the kind of storm all weathermen wait for)
)repetitious ripples of dappleddoppler(
(within an hour all was scoured whitesmooth and silent)

spring will
un

lock
the land

open
the body

in the early hours

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

in the early hours

in the early hours
when you

left our bed
to set upon

a quiet house
now

the sky
cracked

and screaming
now

the weight
of so many words

now
the smudge

the sun makes
and when

at last
we catch cathedral

let us
release you

to a bolt
of blue sky

in the fields

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 28

in the fields

in the fields
the hay

has been cut
and dried

the final sunflowers list
and fade

to the west
a line

of aspen trees
sigh

at the touch
of october light

two crows
call out

and hold their own
against the hawk

how will you journey
out of this life?

how will you find
that brief dark door?

what will your music
sound like?

in the little

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

in the little

in the little
of the morning

red flag raised
and sounding

the air
cool moving

through
the trees

unsettles
loose leaves

the horizon
slides closer

stitched black
with lightening

bruised blue
with pummels

of thunder
first drops

blink dark
the dry ground

haloing
in the sand

before the world
shrieks

and sighs

in the mango tree

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

in the mango tree

in the mango tree
across the street

a prattle of parrots
most evenings meet

to chew the fat
and the mango sweet

with a secret cue
they screech away

then circle back
as if to say

this was the best
part of your day

i will give you

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

i will give you

i will give you
permission

to cut me
with your knife

to give me eyes
that will not see

a mouth
that will be silent

i will give you
permission

to take your hands
and scrape away

my seeds
turning my insides

out
i will give you

permission
to cut me

with your knife
againandagainandagain

if you promise
to leave

your light
inside me

late this

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 19

late this

late this
last leaf

of bough bright
and stem strong

d              e              a               t                h
c               a              t               c                h
m             e

slow
the ceremony

of
bone&ghost

many are

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

many are

many are
the morning ghosts

who see
what we cannot see

who architect
such a broad sweep

of things
the sky

perfectly pieced
with the sea

the waves piling
onto the shore

how the trees
and the rocks

tendril together
to weave their way

up up up
into the sky

m(ending)

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

m(ending)

m(ending)
                                 you
           a      nd
         i(n)
      me

miles out at sea

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

miles out at sea

miles out at sea
far too distant

for the drums
to be heard

ribbons of light
split beneath the ribs

of a thunderhead
within the hour

the storm had tiptoed
off the horizon

and all those
around me

distracted
by more mundane things

were none
the wiser

                                      but
                                   let me
                              ask you this

when was the last time
beauty

stopped you
in your tracks?
laughed
at your silly deeds
and demands?

when was the last time
beauty

took you
in her gentle hands
and shook you
all to pieces?

minimalism

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

minimalism

minimalism.
mnmlsm.
mmm.
mm.
m.
.

minimalism

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 19

minimalism

minimalism.
mnmlsm.
mmm.
mm.
m.
.

more

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 1

more

more
is the occasion

than not
but less than before

washed up on the shore
relics of shells

broken sea bells
that crescent the strand

cloudy brown or green or white
that gentle rub of decay

or whatever might
seek display

jeweling the sand
i keep to myself

jarred away
on a shelf

morning tapped

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 22

morning tapped

morning tapped
the window

go see
what night has left you

                                                       (along the strand
                                                   waves in bright sways)
                                                     )pitched salty sparks
                                                      in pounding sprays(

do not
always choose comfort

or seek the familiar
it is fine

to ignore routine
to hold hands

with spontaneity
to wake

from a sleep
undreaming

nampula

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 20

nampula

nampula
wakes at first light

she bundles brightly
and brooms the streets

breathing the blue sky
she walks her brother to school

half naked
she sits in the dirt screaming

she cements shards of glass
to the tops of walls

when rain turns the roads into rivers
she builds bridges out of boards

she carries charcoal
on the back of her bicycle

from the side of the road
she sells puppies from a basket

she balances her belongings
on her head

resting in the shade of a tree
she breastfeeds her newborn

at the checkpoint armed with an assault rifle
she asks for our passports

playing with her friends
she rolls old tires down dirt roads

she moves
through the brutal beauty of chaos

nampula
sleeps at last light

on the cover

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 4

on the cover

on the cover
of the new york time magazine

there is a man
standing

in the middle
of a crowded new york city bus

he is wearing
a perfect grey pinstripe suit

and a gorilla mask
one hand

holds the new york times
the other

holds a hand strap
my grandmother

upon seeing the photograph
for the first time

knows those hands
to be the hands

of her son

re

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 5

re

re
imagine
me
in
a
field
of
blue

wind upon wax wing
climb cloud up and down

above

the hedgerows the meadows the strands the things
we do not yet know the music to

until the sun whispers
it is time

and
marks
my
cascade
into
the
hands
of
the
sea

rest area

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 5

rest area

rest area
                                                                        each
                                                                st ar
                                                                      reaches
                                                    us
                                                        here

she

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 7

she

she    loves the sound of rain   she   sleeps until noon   she   kisses with her eyes open   she   sits in the corner   she   does not drink   she wades into the river   she   does not eat   she   is addicted to sadness
shehidesincrowds   she  is one of seven children   she   loves tequila   she  gathers ghosts   she   is her own worst enemy   she   cannot have children  she  applies her make up on the subway   she   attends sunday mass   she   is terrified of hospitals   she   has never seen a dead body   she   sings in the shower   she   lights candles   she   does not know how to swim   she   is angry with god   she   never has money   she   trusts no one   she   places flowers in the vase   she   makes excuses   she   collects lladro   she   died in
her sleep   she   speaks three languages   she   has a laugh like sunshine   she   loves children   she   was *****   she   studied chemical engineering   she   wants to be a dolphin   she   staggers with the weight of loneliness   she   reads shakespeare   she   smokes when she is drunk   she   cries in the dark   she   has a small tattoo of a seahorse on her shoulder

shooting pennies

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 3

shooting pennies

my grandfather
went inside

to get more bullets
in a voice

not meant
for me to hear

he said
to my grandmother

he doesn’t have the eye
his brother has

with shaking hands
with my final bullet

i put a hole
clean through the head

of lincoln

the church bells

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 8

the church bells

the church bells
sound the hour

but it is the leaves
we turn to

for time
watch closely

at the ghosts
and bones

of autumn
the final breaths

heavy with yellow
and red

we release
like all colors called

and collected
we release

the hummingbird

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

the hummingbird

the hummingbird
all function

and form
impossibly winged

and ricocheting
from one

cupped sun
to another

i stand
my ground

and imagine
the percussion

of its tiny heart
a muscle

the size
of a grape seed

then there it is
right before my eyes

lingering
for a moment

before nudging off
into this uncomfortable world

there is so much work
yet to be done

the leaves tried

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 9

the leaves tried

the leaves tried
to tell me

but i confused
their colors

the water tried
to warn me

but i misunderstood
the words

the geese tried
to guide me

but i complained
of not having wings

and soon
i found myself

alone

the rains

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

the rains

the rains
have returned

as have the parrots
that riot down

the evening streets
this morning

a hummingbird
ash grey

and the size
of a child’s thumb

floating between
the branches

of a flowerless tree
slowly

things have found
their way back

into focus
into some semblance

of routine
and order

but small cracks
and fissures remain

open invitations
for grief

to come
galloping back

(did you really think you would be rid of me so easily?)

(that this would last only a moment?)

(who do you think has been filling your dreams with shadows?)

there

Michael Sean Maloney 7d

there

there
is a garden

where
fifteen rocks rest

in perfect swirls
of white pebbles

there
is a garden

where
fifteen rocks rest

and this
is what

they say

there are moments

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 12

there are moments

there are moments
when the rain bells

and pebbles
against the window

when the moon lifts
like the ocean’s only coin

we move
roomtoroom boxtobox

we move
dusttodust

should any heaven hold
both sea and sky

my mother
shall have one

my father
the other

There is much to be said

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

There is much to be said

si lence of snow

the for the how

be said ghosts un

too much so fold

There is slow ly.

there is no beauty

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 12

there is no beauty

there is no beauty
in their flight

a frantic choreography
as if taking to the air

for the very first time
twitching from one tree

to the next
but their color

such a giving green
and that breath of red

patched just beneath
each wing

says much
of their humor

their jocularity

will you have a look at us?
how the hell did we even get here?
and, really, who knew this would such fun?

the river knows

Michael Sean Maloney Nov 10

the river knows

the river knows
as does the grey

of the rain
the dark windows

of the church know
and the confetti

of leaves wet
upon the cobblestones

he isgone

to ng ue ti pp ed
                               in to the
                                              in fi ni te

heis gone

the sky the sea

Michael Sean Maloney Oct 15

the sky the sea

the sky the sea
inside               inside
you                              you
corners                                 circles
of                                             of
the deepest                                              the deepest
blue                                                           green
at night                                                    at night
stars                                                stars
dance                                   bell
from dark                     then blink
strings             unseen
and spark and sink