You reach for your fifth sugar cube
To drop into your third cup of liquid gold
That holds more sugar and ice cubes
Than actual tea.
Tumbling cube after cube
-of sugar or ice I've lost track,-
You pause mid-tumble in contemplation
Then start to fidget with one,
Turning it over
In dry palms.
Neither hear the cacophony
Below our bubbled balcony.
My bluewhite, brown-streaked saucer
Is hopeful, and holds your gaze,
Its dripping brownstains braver than I in that.
My every clink-a-clink-a-clink
Of spoon on cupedge
breaks your concentration
And you have to start over
(With what, I'm not certain)
And we both know I'm clinking on purpose,
Counting beats with the cuckoo clock,
With a heart as full of hope
As your cup is with hexagonal once-cubes.
When you look up again,
I can feel inside me
The number of universes in the world
Double instantly,
     and I wonder
          Which one we're in--
Will you say what you want
Or what (you think) you should?

blackbird eyes me up from its wire
sez im aright
sez i can fly higher
sez there's no period at the end
only a halfhearted comma

but i dunno what for

blackbird hops over
makes room for another
makes the saddest caw you ever did hear
then dashes off to lick the sky clear
till eleven shades of bluewhite appear

but i dunno im not sure anymore

this is the part where i carve
one little hole in my thoughts
watch the me breathe its last breath
watch the i beady turn tor

The Open Shore

You are the open shore
Of my heart
Everyday I walk you,
Barefeet stride the pulsating sand
Golden, I warm in your brilliance
Overhead, your illumination
looking down on me

Gentle winds on my smile
My Eyes See You across the waves
Rising, falling, changing,
Bluewhite depths a devotion
Sweeping away all the times I worry
How deep sometimes I wish
To melt into moments like these
Clarity, sparkling rarity

There is no beginning, no end
To our love
Only and always this moment,
Ours,
The years, the lives we will
Tide and recede together

in the land of golem, shades reign
identities spread all over the ground
they consist of ice-covered letters
names, written in the font of memories

in the land of golem, glimmering reigns
names spread all over the ground
sparkling fireflies hover over words
written in the font of forgiveness

golemland consists of shadows
golemland is a place of lights
guarded by a ward who is on high alert
his name is golem, a wise, weary creature

golem owns a diary with a bluewhite binder
each era is a time of reflection for him
golem walks up a steep mountain track
precisely at 8 o'clock, it's the year 1945

the mountaintop lined with shades, lights
they are transcending into each other
golem takes breath, 76 years passed by
since he started from the bottom

golem is sitting down among creation
it's the moment of a long awaited return
glimmering turns into a glare, relaxation
shades become shadows, tension

golem is looking at a blackwhite sky
his attachments whirring in the clouds
the sounds of the sea blowing upwards
golem closes his eyes, awaiting to die

then, golem is falling asleep and rests