from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (19)
several years ago
for several years
nothing came to entrance me
–
more specifically
doors entranced me
the emptiness of doors
–
the simple lack of existence
led me further to rooms
and bowls cups and spoons
–
it wasn’t the rooms the doors
the bowls cups or spoons
but the pure embedded absence
–
nothing was useful
nothing was transcendent
the emptiness the lack the absence
(January 25, 2020)
from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (18)
I’ve been here before
floating adrift frightened
the water is cold
–
a door opens
I walk through an emptiness
to arrive in another
–
I’ve been here before
this time the people are blue
and the music hasn’t started
–
a door opens
air rushes in
to fill the space
–
I don’t want to repeat
but no one is listening
and patterns are seductive
–
years later
the same song plays
I dance alone
–
I’ve been here before
a door opens
I step through
–
there is no dream
there is no metaphor
the wind is silent
(January 23, 2020)
from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (17)
he alludes to a poem as if others
know what he thinks about before he can
speak which in this case means before he can
think his thoughts being like Rube Goldberg
devices clacking along tripping springs and
traps which propel the odd idea along
tangential routes until finally falling
into its assigned slot and everything
stops and silence expands like waves of water
rippling across the surface of a lake
eventually lapping the far shore
where a small boy plays with a wooden boat
never once thinking about poetry
(January 23, 2020)
from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (15)
from the upstairs window
the grey cat waits
and watches shadows
shift like dark flowers
dance in morning light
(January 21, 2020)
from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (11)
she skitters part way
into the empty street
stops stutter steps
grasps the road
trying not to fall off
then leaps back
unsure what’s next
*
I rarely know
finding myself
now as if
it made sense
yet knowing I’m wrong
*
I turn
without reason
as a car
crushes past
(January 16, 2020)
from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (6)
distracted
a whispered kiss
slips past
(January 8, 2020)
from “process, not a journey” a work in process (5)
always the fear waits
along the edge
of the trees
the casual phrase
the unsheathed knife
it waits
for you will come
unbidden
(January 7, 2020)
