aftermath’s laughter
at friends sent away
falls like swords’ clatter
upon wet stone streets
blood drips from my wounds
(from a work in progress: “Arcana,” Vswords, December 29, 2013)
-
The Longest Night of the Year
it’s latethe moon is in eclipsemy wine glass is emptyI rest my head in my handsbeyond mere exhaustionor the constant sadnessaching beneath my skinI should know by nowafter so many lifetimesof watching the night:the water rises at my feetthe storm surge shall passI have no fear of drowningI’ll find a wayto draw myselfwrithingfrom my darker angerto harvest the depthsas a fisherman once againpulls his nets from the sea(from a work in progress: “Arcana” King of Cups, December 29, 2013) -
Form and Motion
December 27, 1995The water takes the shape of the rockand gives it new shapes back.The flow continues, repeating contours,reinforcing each turn and drop.I study my shapeless shapes,then wander about the shifting dunes.(from: “My Book of Changes” 1994-1995) -
poetry’s never true, always present
a simple story pretendstoward an epiphanyfrom life’s narrativeresolved along linesreaders who expect everythingto be tucked in tidy rowscan know how to followwithout all distraction’s rigmarolemetaphor casually drops in the waylike falling rocks onto a roadafter a mountain rainstormcausing so many misunderstandingsthrough misreading which turnof phrase to follow now thatthe transparently obvious talehas once again troubled itselfinto something other than it was(December 27, 2013) -
trapped
by
a chair’s propped up against the doorthe one window’s bricked shuta bare bulb flickers out of reachat the room’s center I sit on the floorpalms up my hands hold only airmy eyes are closed breath unevenI hear feet shuffling uneasily outsidethe door knob begins to turn then stopsvoices murmur indistinctly concerned(December 26, 2013) -
American Haiku
by
Form not in language;Forced syntax distorts the word.The street hurts my feet.(from, “If This is a Comedy, Why Ain’t I Laughing” circa 1993) -
breath
my hold on airis tenuouswith each breatha newerdifferent selfsmudges forthlike smokean articulationof iceas ifthe syllableswhich slipfrom my tonguelike a kissanticipateyour desireswithinthe minuteprojectionsthat must beaccountedtoward someoldermechanisticgod(December 24, 2013) -
A Problem With Pride
December 24, 1995The task complicated,the ambition vaulting.What compelled me,now humbles me.How large an offeringfrom such a shallow bowl?(from: “My Book of Changes,” 1994-1995) -
Excess Light Is Not the Problem
by
“Unreason is in the same relation to reason as dazzlement to the brightness of daylight itself.”—Michael FoucaultTruth’s troubled;so it’s bestavoidedif you can.Now I am notsaying anythinglike to lie,but locks are dangerous:logic clicksmechanically into placewithout thoughtfor surrounding space.To lie with truth begetsa problematic progeny.(December 22, 2013) -
Pack Up My Things and Go
by
December 22, 1995Perhaps it is better to go silentlysince no one believes,if they bother to listen. The clamoris so loud. What I have to sayneeds an attention that is lacking.Simplicity is hard to understand.(from:”My Book of Changes,” 1994-1995) -
(Life Remains Unchanged), two poems from 1995
by
Cold FeetDecember 18, 1995So I’ve spent months cleaningto the foundations, investigatingeach fissure of my well.What will it matterwhen I put all this asideand follow my old path?The Wood Curls Slowly in ArabesquesDecember 19, 1995Sliding the chisel along the grain,the wood takes shape before meI watch the shavings curl,then fall away. Here is whereI am, not with the finishedbowl upon the shelf.(from “My Book of Changes” 1994-1995) -
you say nothing always
your words are nattersof wind without resonancebeyond breath’s playalong imagination’s earwhat I want you to sayformed from what you will(December 20, 2013) -
How the Connections are Made
by
December 15, 1995The tone of a simple statement,the placement of a simple word,like a melodic airdrifting across a lake:we recognize the other in passingby the fire we carry within.(from, “My Book of Changes”) -
Doo Da Wop
by
“Come on get smart, tune up and startTo whistle while you work”—from “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves”Do what you’re told—Duh! Or getwhopped upside the head.(December 19, 2013) -
Eternal Movement
December 14, 1995A pattern repeats:no more a weaknessthan tides to the moon.I fluctuate betweenan angry despairand an unqualified hope.(from “My Book of Changes” 1994-1995
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