the siamese sits
in the open window
ears twitch in the breeze
an owl prepares
for flight through
the quickening dark
for flight through
the quickening dark
the moon grins
between clouds
unfolding into the night
(November 2011)
-
Troubled
by
It’s an ache at the centerTight near where the ribsCome together like handsIn prayer;It’s a hunger for somethingAnything other than nowOther than what’s hereToday;It’s a longing to transformMy life from my lifeLike a chrysalisIn spring;It’s a desire to strip backLayers of my soulAnd cast them asideLike chaff:Can meaning be harvestedFrom these dry remnantsOf our fractious past?Tell me.(November 2011) -
Chesire Cat
by
he shows himselfin half-statementsmetaphors to distracthis intent as heskims the peripherylike a cat curledon the couchhe silently watchesher as she movesthrough the roomconversations endor begin in middlesnon-sequiturs benda mobius spaceas he speaks with herwhen she questionshe hideshis heartin obfuscationand whispersoh Alicewhat do you thinkyou seewhen youtalk to me(November 2011) -
Landscape Suite
“Ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more”–Bob Dylanit is not so much that there is no rainbut structures built to save us from stormsprevent any hope of moisture from makingcontact with the dormant seed in the ground* * *listen to the conversation we are indo you hear the words you are sayingdismissive sneers fall freelyfrom your lips like bits of venomif we would just do as we are toldyou would be so much happierif the sheep would learn to sheer themselvesit would be so much simpler to skin them* * *I walk this path with easeas others have done before methe ground bare and wornfrom penitents’ shuffling feetas they made their obsequiousway like cows toward waterwinding through huisacheAnd bramble in ritual* * *ravens pick at bits of obscure fleshhanging from thorns in the briara stigmata’s promise to all who attemptto leave the way that lies before us* * *the open field grows fallowthe loam cracked and turned to dustno rain for several seasonsrats gnaw obliquely on seed corna wind musters on the stark horizonthe earth rises to greet the dead sky(October 2011) -
Blake’s Angels Walk the Street
who am ii am you andyou are what isallowed bymy mind and yoursthe strands of ourpast knot a futurein patterns like frosthow can i separatevision and dreamwaking dulls thoughtsslows transitionclogs the mindwith corporeal matterssolidifies the worldin which we liveas i walk the streeti see angelsdancing in facestwisted like threadin thoughtslike tangled netsin our dreamswhich in turndance my lifein turn again
(Fall 1994) -
Origins
I dwell in a darker woodan opening among gnarled oaksNear a creek below a cragOff to the north of this fireThe stars pierce the sky above meLike silver-threaded tattingThrough which the moon flowsDusting light leaves across the forest floorI watch the fire as it dancesShadows across nearby treesShapes leap from branch to branchHiding themselves in their own lightExposed to the sky and to myselfI embrace a deep solace in the night(October 2011) -
Ritual(s of my day)
“The judges of normality are present everywhere”-Michel FoucaultFastened to a hurdleDrawn by horse to the placeHanged (almost to the point of death)EmasculatedDisemboweledBeheadedAndChoppedIntoFourPiecesRemainsDisplayedIn prominent placesFor reasons of decencyWomen were burnt(found poem from a wikipedia article)(October 2011) -
Fingerprints
the creek tangles between the rootsof the trees clinging to the bankthe water bends back upon itselfswirling leaves into brackish eddieslike fingerprints upon the water’s surfacewe talk in passing of trivialitiesthe mundane functions of the daytroubles at work what the kids are doinguntil tangled in my silent obsessionsI bend ever deeper into solitudethe creek the trees the roots and weshape each other against the otherleaving wisps and traces to swirlabout in latent ambiguities(September-October 2011) -
Advice to Myself
by
attend to the daily walkdown the hall, the simpletalk from friend to friend, attendto the roses as they fallpetals scattered across the floor(September 2011) -
Explanatory Note
by
i find it somewhat difficultto speak, so stutter aboutand mutter over chatteras if it really matteredmy secrets unfold betweenthe mottled shadows pulsingon this wall like the wordswhispered beneath the noiseof all the voices I have heardso listen closely to my heartand trust that what I sayis true despite the layerswithin these lines which hidewhat I would speak to you(September 2011) -
Beat Down
He sputters out his despairLike bits of broken teethThe blood and bone of his lifePooling between his feetHe sits on the curbOf his possibilitiesRuns his tongue along his lipsThen spits for a newer luckSuch chances of changeAre trapped in routineHis daily ramblingsAlong a long familiar pathSo what should he do nowHold on or turn around(September 2011)
subtext 