He wanders
from wall to wall,
turning tightly
at all the corners.
There are no doors,
nor windows,
only walls;
no light
outside his dark.
(June 4, 2019)
-
The Wanderer
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
At home, I cannot move on.
I have few friends here,
but I am content:
I am myself with myself.
Each day, I wander alone
through a foreign land,
where I have no tongue:
no tumblers click
within their conversations,
no prison bolts drop
within their conventions.
(May 31, 2019)
-
Forced to Speak
by
Go down the occasions:
the tally marks of days,
weeks, months, years
ago when something
was said, or not
said, or done, or
not done– enough!
What happens when one
no longer has anything
to say; when language
has outstripped
one’s desire to speak?
I’m at an impasse
and fear my words.
(May 31, 2019)
-
permeable
each day I revise
and renew the dream
if not into now then
some other when
where I want to be
becomes possible
for the moment
in which I’m in
dream dreams
dreams too until
all the seams
between seem as
if some other were
only what is here
(May 30, 2019)
-
something’s amiss
He spits bits
of fat and flesh
into the fire–
to conspire,
with a smile,
something for you,
something askew:
a new line,
a new charm,
or warning hiss;
some new distress,
some fatal harm,
like twined snakes
upon a cross.
(May 27, 2019)
-
Abundance (fullness)
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
The moon wanes,
as he begins
to speak:
so many words
go unspoken.
He chokes on air.
(May 25, 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)
-
Development (gradual progress)
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
I’m here where I belong,
sitting beneath this tree
I planted long ago.
(May 24, 2019)
-
Keeping Still, Mountain
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
Before he moves,
he waits on time,
listening for a breath.
He moves still
without motion;
his mind wanders
across the valley
to the next mountain.
Discontent breeds desire.
He sits stiffly
somewhere between
here and there:
no end,
no beginning.
(May 20, 2019)
-
The Arousing (shock, thunder)
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
A door blows open;
I wake to a storm.
A familiar room whirls
in disarray. Fear dares
for someone to speak.
(May 17, 2019)
-
half empty, half full
1.
I cannot hear America
singing– the sun
descends, and the moon
is dark. Hell’s gate
swings wide. I fear
I am lost.
2.
I worry the world,
and am wrong
about so much;
yet, the sun still rises
each morning,
despite all of us.
(May 15, 2019)
-
The Cauldron
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
No flames engulf–
I burn in slow embers
which pulse like blood;
if god exists, he’s here
now between these words
I live within.
(May 15, 2019)
-
The Well
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
the students come and go
I remain, little changes
we talk about poetry
and show our minds
at play in essays
it’s what I have
to give, what I know—
for most it will end
with whatever they take
away with what they did
(May 14, 2019)
-
Oppression (exhaustion)
by
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
If one can accept
the slow rain, one
must acquiesce
to the flood. I do not
know what to say, or
what to believe
between the lies
which bear down
daily like a press.
Yet, even exhausted,
I still step out
singing the sun.
(May 14, 2019)
subtext 