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Within a Dream

The sound of my last dream

will be silence: the silence

of fog, the silence of fear.

My last dream will echo

the clack of high heels

on wet London streets.

My last dream will be warm

like your bare skin beneath

my hands late at night.

My last dream will linger

over the thousand, thousand

kisses: your lips soft,

warm, hungry for more.

My last dream will be free

of doubt, secure in coherence

with all the lines blurred.

My last dream will not wake

to return me to a place

it can never know.

My last dream will be

a harbor, a sanctuary,

a last whispered breeze.

(October 15, 2019)

Featured

a fatigue of consciousness

to erase presence,

blend into dust

dancing in sunlight;

or, to be aware,

beware, constantly

of the eternal now

is not a choice

between happiness

and a lived life,

nor, life and death

for that matter,

but compromise:

to watch the sunrise,

to see the sunrise,

despite the sunrise.

(October 10, 2019)

Vicissitudes of Longing

He knew enough

if not too much,

while pretending

he knew it all.

She, too, wanted

more, something

other, ineffable,

not here, not now.

They sat in silence,

without moving,

listening closely

for the other’s heart.

Nearby, on the wall

hung a stale still life.

(September 17, 2019)

The Marrying Maiden

from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress

not drowning, nor waving

but to enter a room

and not be the room

nor resist the room

each wave is a wave

distinct until the shore

my voice is strangled

before it can be heard

(May 25, 2019)

Without Mirrors

I hold up mirrors

as shields to reflect

what I’m expected

to be: brother,

father, teacher,

lover, friend.

These apparitions

flow through

me like fish

slowly nibble

the bait clean

from the hook.

I’m only myself,

when nothing’s left.

(April 3, 2019)

Work on What has been Spoiled

From “Renditions of Change” a work in progress

Caught in a tight

spiral of self-loathing,

I try to scrape

and cut away

memory,

like a benign tumor.

Yet, I return and return

to each malignant moment,

and paint my face

in ritual guilt,

as if one could absolve

the past, and be free.

(February 12, 2019)

Possession in Great Measure

from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress

As I teach my students,

I try to be honest

in who I am;

yet, fear

I’m a fraud.

Teaching’s resistance:

how to read,

analyze,

break meaning from words–

then rewrite

in the students’ voices

without becoming

a lie that exalts

the life

they are not.

(February 7, 2019)