subtext

My Poetry and Commentary on Life

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rattling knobs

by

life, obsessions, poetry, process, silly

always more doors

open and shut

missing keys

missing locks

open into rooms

hallways

outdoors

indoors

deeper interiors

cloistered ruminations

echo of emptied rooms

troubled voices behind

locked doors mumble

cupped ear pressed

to wood listens

for reason

to flee from

or enter through

another door

always another

(April 14, 2014)

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Writing’s Risk

by

erato, poetry, process, writing

at eighty miles per hour I hear a line

and attempt to scrawl the words

across my notebook’s page

on the seat next to me

while staying true between

the lane’s lines and the semi

wobbling one lane over:

how important is the muse’s gift

and one’s life?

            Write the line—

                        before you forget

                        before you die

                        before it’s gone

            trust what you hear

            is more important

            than what you know

the sibyl’s offering

            crumbles faster

            than one can read

leaves twist into the wind

like dancers into the wings

(April 13, 2014)

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Antecedent

by

community, definition, poetry, traces

“I: I wanted to know you

M: I wanted far more”

–Anne Carson

I’ve lost myself

nearby I imagine

but doubt blocks

all attempts

to search the face

I have never seen

*

she translates herself within

a terrain she cannot negotiate

familiar markers distort

a newer clarity without

traces of metaphor’s fossil

*

he wanders into the question

too late to scream an answer

so silence falls around the blue

flames kissing his mouth softly

with acquiescence’s dry ash

*

there are no words for them

they do not exist as pronoun

they entwine without words

within the silences between

what cannot be said to the other

(April 12, 2014)

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all my difference not a difference at all

by

acceptance, fate, happiness, life, poetry, writing

Is ‘the fine art of unhappiness’ truly

losing its allure?

–Denise Levertov

frost has melted away

from the edge of the paths

even as far as I can see

into the undergrowth new buds

sprout along bare branches

the wood does not care

where I stand for a moment

I am a minor note within

the cacophony pulsing each leaf

between which birds flit

and sing in strange harmony

each to each well beyond

any sigh I can muster

within some nostalgic reverie

before trudging home alone

(April 11, 2014)

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nothing to hold

by

acceptance, life, poetry

my vision blurs

I fall to my knees

grasping the dry earth

spinning beneath me

my hands become dust

I become dust

indistinguishable

in the growing dusk

across the barren plain

the still air settles

in with the night

beneath the empty stars

(April 8, 2014)

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a coming to know

by

fragments, meaning, paradigms, poetry, sonnets, ways of knowing

on slow approach toward

a stranger out walking

each nods awareness

quickly moving on yet

still thinking what one saw

as somehow significant

because one saw a context

to place the moment within

safely and with comfort among

the other thoughts in your head

like pieces from varied puzzles

fit to form a newer pattern

disconnected from any past

beyond the last few words

(April 7, 2014)

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with age

by

acceptance, fate, identity formation, middle-age, poetry, sonnets, ways of knowing

I have no answers

nor profundities to offer

as a proxy for wisdom

age bestows nothing

but age no comfort

from doubt beyond familiarity

with the trope I’ve become

It is a simple act

to put on the definition

one has been offered

to accept the sumptuary

raiment draped upon me

like funeral shrouds

ignited by the flames

(April 6, 2014)

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agoraphobia

by

borders, fear, life, poetry

shadows pulse on the fire’s edge

like belief’s soft cushions against

the fangs gnashing bones in the dark

(April 5, 2014)

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be now

by

happiness, metaphor, poetry, silence

“I reach

for a silence almost present

elusive among my heartbeats”

–Denise Levertov

to glide

            from branch to branch

as all the forest

waits

for the earth

to exhale

            before desire

                        ignites

the next pulse

                        to thrum blood

                                    along the veins

                        yet again

to hold clean

            life without struggle

                        the ecstatic leap

            before panic windmills

                        desperate arms

to pause

            before

                        this

next

kiss

(April 3, 2014)

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Every Echo Has Its Source

by

conversation, dream, existential angst, fear, fragments, life, liminal, poetry, traces, ways of knowing

day’s conversations

become night’s harpies

fluttering sharp claws

between fitful dreams

inciting breaches

within beliefs

to form a newer day

in the simple meanings

between hello

and good-bye

(April 1, 2014)

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Self-Erasure

by

fragments, identity formation, life, poetry, traces

All my faces blur;

smudged charcoal drawings demure

on the artist’s floor.

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tongue lashed

by

borders, control, conversation, definition, language, life, poetry

whatever I say you will

define me as you will

so do not bother

to ask me

for the bindings

you provide

for permission

to enslave me

for me to speak

your words

as if

I believe

the lines

you draw

are real

(March 30, 2014)

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irrational fraction

by

borders, dissatisfaction, eros, poetry, process

always something

beyond beckons

but to what

to where

for what purpose

am I abstracted

always a separation

from the world

as if I am

not enough

as if I am

not whole

always a step

away from

completion

always a fraction

more before

the circle seals

(March 28, 2014)

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you meant something

by

communication, conversation, language, life, meaning, obsessions, poetry, social construction, sonnets, traces, ways of knowing

“but we long beyond them

for what is unseen”

—W.S. Merwin

why do we believe in words

when they lie by their existence

they are not what they say

but hint of shadows behind

shadows reflecting some other

which is no where in the sound

beyond what we hoped to mention

before we stood together and spoke

and what remains in the silence

absent the memory of words

often is not enough to sustain

us in our desiccated lives

so we return through mumbled hellos

to a comfortable habit within our talk

(March 27, 2014)

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Wishes’ Consequence

by

acceptance, control, happiness, poetry

If I could force the river

from its course and drive

away tears’ inevitable

flood back into the sea;

if I could change the pattern

of the wheeling stars

reconnect the diverse

constellations of my life,

then would satisfaction weave

itself about me like a spiders’

cocoon to be packed away for later ;

then would I be content to swing

like a hammock back and forth

sleepy beneath the waning moon?

(March 26, 2014)

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