October 2024 poems
Rebirth Through Song
October 11, 2024
With discipline in tatters, she fell through music notes
mutilating against the sharp edges of duplets, and razor note tails.
Pieces of her fall to the earth like fleshy angel feathers, that
make ripples when they hit the water.
Not much left now but bone to build back up,
through melodies, and maladies,
and clay for the parts that she's short on.
***************************
What's up?
October 10, 2024
The past years we pulled down heroes that was raised up on wood,
and celebrated instead the instant gratification of fly by night salesmen.
We lost it, or did we ever have it?
If we did, where did it go?
When we look around drunkenly as if in a long 5 year slumber,
and forget where we are, and who we're next to, and ended up
surrounded by strangers in a foreign land.
Something strange is going down.
It's here,
and around,
when you put your ear to the ground.
*****************************
Wisps of the past
Oct. 09, 2024
When you had faced the last eclipse behind her image,
and you have fallen deaf to the rest of her words,
find a place beside me here, and rest your head
on my thighs, and I'll tell you that it's gone.
She can't hurt you anymore.
She was nothing but a decade's long phantom,
and nothing more.
***********************
Wake Up
Oct. 08, 2024
(This is the start of the new daily poetry on this page as I brought the rest over from previous blog which is all below this entry.)
I can't awaken you any more than I can
when you're eyes are heavy with the coins on them
and copper wires have wrapped down your tongue.
I can't waken 100 years of slumber, and make you
cough up ash, and soil to rebirth you.
You have to do that work on your own.
*********************
Monument
My lips are haunted by his kisses, and how he would shatter
the glass buildings in Le Sud-Ouest with just a glance.
Amazing statues to dust with his voice, and brush the paint
in all the art galleries in the city with the dash of the wind
in his hair. He's gone to the angels now. He burned up like a
phoenix far to quick that the gods were not prepared enough
to grant the rebirth.
If you live too fast, you crash very hard.
***************
Songs from a box
I emptied the last of the music out of the old box
that sat in the basement corner for three years.
It's contents spilling out into my lap, and the
songs induced a time travel experience by
unlocking the keyholes of my eyes to see backwards,
and that song reminded me of who I was, or thought I was
back then.
Funny how in the span of 10 years life can change.
We think the present time we're in will last forever,
and nothing will change, but in the breath of a tree's
leafy lungs, life can be resewn, put back together,
and be torn apart just the same, yet the only thing
that remains the same is a song.
*******************
Tied to spider webs
He went to wash the spider web off his eyelids in the rain.
strands so fine and strong that it leaves paper cut slits behind.
He said he would never go back there. He said he would get on the
next fucking plane and be over with it.
But he never does. He stays feeling locked in place.
Time is running out for you, my darling.
Nothing in your environment fades.
You can't will it away.
Make the next step.
It's all yours now.
***************
Going into Hibernation
We used to be able to work past the cold ice of winter,
but now we lay frozen in the ground, neglecting
the tastes of lemon sugar flakes on our tongues that
remind us that the winter is really not that long.
Things freeze, things thaw, and freeze again.
Sometimes in the darkest days of winter we forget that happens.
Spring renewal always lifts up up out of frosted sleep,
and gives us all birth again.
***********************
Best of Friends
You trembled at the sight of witches flying outside the window,
and you're mother's face ghostly rising out of the wallpaper,
or the strange doppelgangers in the kitchen shadows while
everyone slept but you.
You knew. No one else did, or did they?
You didn't want to go back, or to stay.
You found no solace in either way.
You did find it only in yourself.
You're own world that you dare not let anyone penetrate.
You laughed, and played, and dreamed freely.
You have to remember little girl,
that your own best friend is you.
Treat yourself as such.
**********************
Wing Bones
Sometimes it's hard to trace this pen over this paper, like I would
trace my fingers down your body, and write an invisible poem down
your back in exquisite calligraphy, telling the wild tale of my love.
I wanted to be that woman for you, and bring to you my feminine power softly
when your storms crack through the sky and hammer you down.
I need to wash my body in sage smoke to cleanse this longing,
and bite down on sodalite to shatter your name from my mouth.
These wings broke trying to fly too much.
These hands that write over this page are cramped, and words fade away like old tattoos.
My body is cold without you inside me, and my lips grown numb to your name.
I wrap myself in the shawl of my broken wings, and will learn to grow stronger
in this cocoon, devoid of you, until solitary becomes strength,
and my wing bones heal themselves to fly in the opposite direction
of where you wait.
************
Bonne Nuit
She was tough as nails and never faltered it seemed.
The only time I heard her cry was when the cat died.
She never cried for her husband, that I know.
She gave up after that. She never told, but I know.
Outside her tough exterior was cracking and sorrow
Leaked through, like tears out of gashed wounds.
She fell, and layed on the floor for days until she was found.
Her dignity as wounded as her hip.
She was afraid to go outside after that.
She retreated back into the dark parts of her house,
and saw no one.
Went so far into the dark house within herself and
Curled up in the bed waiting for death to come.
Bonne nuit Marguerite.
Bonne nuit.
*************
Go back to the top of the page.
September 2024 poems
Hair pins and Black Water
She picks up hair pins she finds at the Fairview Lawn Cemetery
hoping to capture the phantom of an ocean breeze in her hair before
the iceberg crash, and plunges her into the cold black water,
with only sea to breathe, and the ocean floor for her bed.
She rests here now, and wanders for eternity looking for shells
but finding only discarded candy wrappers and old coffee cups
distastefully strewn around stone markers, that the ghosts regretfully see
before the groundskeeper comes in the morning to pick them up.
She drops a hair pin from her cold white little hand and it disappears
before it hits the ground. She fades into the background of
early morning city cars that dash beyond the fence, only to
preform the ritual all again, the next night.
*********************
Like Liquid
The tv through the window across the street
plays like a box inside a box,
flickering like a bluebell swaying just a little
outside smokey mists, in an evening interlude
when you walked past it to preform our distance ritual.
So many ways, 50 I can at least count, that can pull the bridge closer,
close the gap, drain the harbour, press through telephone wires that
make up this city's veins. I become liquid for you, dissolve into harbour water, into the mist, and
like blood through telephone veins.
***************
Collision
Drop your supplies,
and shake my underground resistance.
When distances pull close,
and grass kisses feet,
and cities give up their dust,
and golems return to clay.
When two hands meet,
and we unfold,
only then the legend told
of two moons that orbit each other
collide sweetly making
the night so bright it
becomes day,
will leap from the old pages
in dusty books about
love and lust,
on the back shelves
on the bottom corner
that everyone
in the library
forgot.
*********************
Between Conversations
Between conversations about fires that roar underground,
and how we stand on them without melting, and
the descriptions of light reflecting off a coin in the grass,
you brushed my lips with your eyes, and I taste
their blue ice pop flavour
which take me decades away from here, to
childhood ice cream truck chimes, and the old sliding
floor freezer of the corner store, which always smelled of wet cardboard
and cigarette smoke.
*******************
Stone
You are so stoic, and people have whispered low
on how they swear they saw you move once.
You blink your eye and you change under the shadow
of the tree, with the moon behind, enveloping you
in mystery and myth.
I put my hand to your chest, and swear I felt a beat, and breath,
somewhere deep under all your centuries of stone.
***************
Catching the taxi home
The silver smell of the cool night air
comes like a title wave as I turned the corner.
A soft flutter of chimney smoke is somewhere
and all the night streets tonight seem to be asleep
too early for a Saturday night.
I thought about how you used to walk down the street
on Saturday nights, with the rhythm of Kerouac in
your foot falls, and a Waits grumble
from the mouth of your eyes.
You dashed in and out of street lights like a
flickering memory that goes in and out
like a loose lightbulb.
Good night, my friend.
I hope you finally have caught that taxi.
*****************
Star Cream
star cream dreams could be real
what you can have as her gift to you
yet you stay where you are in a bed of bitterness
and your barren harvests go unacknowledged
by gods and goddesses that turned their backs tired
you tire of dust everywhere and cobwebs of
emptiness of love that was of convenience at
the time and smothered you long for her star cream
and wish you could dare to
run
(find)
a
way
****************
This Morning After
I wake next to him and breath that first breath
The morning after.
Last night I disrobed before him - bare in my non-fiction,
and he read my pages like a student.
I take my experimental first steps this morning after.
Do I proceed steady on my feet, or run wild
like a lassoed horse who broke free?
Do I remain naked, or wrap myself in yards
of gauze?
I can't move at his side, and his half closed blue eyes
which silently gaze into mine some strange magicks.
My heart quietly pounds as I think to make my way dizzily
back to the city where the street lights can hide most things,
like a heart who never wants to give up her
independence and far away from this passion
like a kaleidoscope of beautiful coloured broken glass.
***************
Rough Beauty
She's as beautiful as a chipped vase
with each bit of paint that is scratched,
shows the purity of porcelain beneath.
Bare beauty needs no paint or decoration.
Rough diamonds never show scratches,
it only adds to their character.
She stands strong against the cold wind,
issuing it a challenge to come at her.
It always backs down.
It would be a fool to cross her.
*************
Crash
Like gulls who move closer to land to die,
she fell with the late afternoon,
splashed concrete to bone,
and it was that when she awoke
and realized she hadn't suffered the fate
like her mother,
she knew that the divine was on her side,
and she knelt on shredded road ripped knees
to give thanks.
*************************
Beyond Twilight
Kiss me with fire so that it burns me back to purity.
Tell me there's a future inside the divination of your lapis stones,
where you and I share our shadows
against rocks, grass, and walls,
and where your hand passes through the energy field
just above my body,
to make contact during the hours
beyond twilight.
**********************
Cat Dreams
You eat meat
and there for you know blood
like your ancestors.
You curl up to sleep
in the shadow half of a tree,
until the fluttering bird
shoots out of a branch,
waking you from
jungle dreams.
****************
Waiting for Impact
It's so hard for you to move away from the situation
when you have the decision to make,
either you run gently or wildly,
or stay in a spot
like a deer about to be hit with a car
on a lonely road,
you breathe in the heavy lead air,
and realize you're trapped.
Wait for the impact.
*************
Full Force
If we had the sense to move closer
and crash through this glass barrier
with both forces connecting as one
we could be something the universe
never saw before.
How I would make love to you
would be the greatest show on earth,
and the way we would kiss each other
would become legend.
Yet, glass barriers keep us both
just out of reach of one another.
I'm afraid to fall in love hitting the ground
full force.
***********************
Night Travel
I trace my fingers down the indent of your back where your spine is
like a long road, that I would travel down all night,
hoping to hitch a ride out of this city,
where pigeons keep watch over sleeping crows,
and sirens play like background music most the night.
You turn around and I press my ear to your chest
so I can hear the earth speak.
The rhythm of life, and love under the gravel of your body.
"How do you want me?"
I whisper to the empty road.
***************
Nostalgic Shelter
Loud drumming beat of rain against the glass, and the air feels like
cold metal against the skin, washed out in the rain storm
inside the one remaining old phone booth in the city.
The light above broken,
decades of graffiti and
unknown phone numbers scrawled
on the walls inside,
the phone receiver missing,
and coin box ripped out and
a coffee cup and candy wrappers now
take up residence inside.
Yesterday's conveniences are today's burdens.
Some one pays for this thing being here
useless to almost everyone now,
except I'm thankful for it's shelter
after being caught off guard in this storm
that lasted about the same time it took to
write this in my notebook.
***************
In Time
When you're as barren as a night time parking garage,
and your broken wings can't raise you to the sky,
healing comes with time,
and time fills up
the sand in the glass anew.
When the clock's crippled hands are given prosthetics,
and the healed coils turn once more,
time does all this
in time.
Then in time,
healed wings soar.
*****************
The Crone and the Moon
I have come to realize that everything that was leading up to this time,
was all worth it.
Both losses and mistakes made bitterly beautiful water for the growth of
knowledge I had to sow.
The masks I wore for various events and people,
now are laying useless in the bottom of an old chest.
There's nothing to prove anymore to myself or any one.
There's no acceptance I need to seek anymore than that from myself.
No need for the bravado that thundered in my heels, and long nails - the illusion of a young woman
who had to prove her worth to the world.
I'm worthy in my own self.
Strong in my body and soul.
Here I am now.
Naked of masks.
Soft with my thunder.
Sensuous with my dominance.
Fully owning what it is to becoming the crone
who humbly draws down the moon in her
solitude, and silent strength.
*************
He went without
Desolate streets snaked through the city within him
he built cathedrals between wars that raged.
He would always take breaks in between his work,
to search for fossils in the sand.
Though he built this city with his bare hands,
and his buildings stood strong, yet his
windows melted like liquid
when sunlight hovered too long upon them.
He couldn't get it right, you see;
making glass solid.
He couldn't remember the formula.
So we went without the barriers of windows,
and without finding her fossilized heart.
*******************
But it never came
Was there ever a time where you knew how to
protect yourself from that demon?
A time where you stopped burying the blinking glass
eyes of dolls in the sand on beaches to keep you
safe from the hex?
You hungered to be free
in the forest where you can finally shout back at
the mirror of sky without the questioning eyes
of the city, and you can walk barefoot like a
drunken bohemian in the moss, and tell the
story of the old skeleton of the sea.
The last window you tried to open
let too much night in, and you
had to sweep it away until dawn, but
the sun never came up.
*************************
Rememberance
Where ever I go
And no matter where I've been
You come with me
As I go with you
The moon still rises
And the sun still sets
And the cycle of life continues on
Now you're dead
Chiming crackling cackles
Is the noise a skeleton makes
Trying on a new body to walk this earth again
I've passed by strangers many times in the streets
Each elderly woman I wonder
If you would have looked like her
*********************
I ran late
I've always been late for everything.
I've always been somewhere else than a place I should have been.
Just like with you.
Too late to have quenched my thirst with your rain wet lips.
Not been where you were when your body ached for covering.
I can't drink rain from your lips
or cover your body when the lights go out.
But I can look northeast and dream that I was on time.
****************
Feral Child
The wind whipped around the street coming down rue Peel,
and clanked bottles together like cheery bones toppling over.
I ran with a pack of wolves like a feral child.
Learning their ways, and letting them raise me as if I never had human parents.
I slept near to their fur and held in a scream as I was bitten by their teeth.
They would bring me garbage as gifts and lick my bite wounds.
I'm sorry brothers and sisters.
I have to leave you to the kennel and return to the human world for a bit.
Think on me when you howl at the icy sickle moon.
*********************
Untitled
I thought I saw you in the crowded streets of Queen and Clyde,
and for a moment I almost reached out but it wasn't you.
You were left to the wind a long time ago
and scattered like a flock of crows to various parts of this city.
Half of you here, half there,
and one part of you took the crosstown to the other side
to hide in between two stones.
The wind is always invisible unless it has you in it.
*****************
Sex and Violence
Black attack
through the back
and back
through the front line
of my heart
you attack
quick
left me for dead
as I back from the attack
and back for more
**********************
Free Poetry
I think about those wild nights
on rue Sainte Catherine's
when I was naively street wise
and corked the night in a bottle
and laid myself down on concrete and velvet
spread open like a book for men to read
yet they were only concerned
with the pictures
and that my poetry was free
*****************
Hungry Grass
I dream in the lyrics of stone tablets
I yearn like a wanderer deprived of water for too long
Between the earth's breath I hear the hungry grass
moan my name
for
me
to
dissolve
in
to
it.
*********
Study
I wish to study
the effect of
gravity on your eyelids
or the mathematical correlation
between the phases of the moon
tangled in your hair
and the yearning hieroglyphics
of your lips.
*************
Wild
We splash
into each other
and break our mouths
on the sidewalks of each other's body.
Be my fountain,
fill the abyss,
the world turns
on it's own axis
as we make love
like jackals at the kill.
*****************
Catching the Moon
the moon in the river
is hard unless you know
the magic spell
and your neck is anointed
with the right perfumed oils
then you can claim him
and make him your own.
************
Go back to the top of the page.
August 2024 poems
Distance
Down overgrown paths
hidden between two trees
surrounded by wetlands
the two lovers sit together
stone skin
too distant
to touch with
human hands
****************
Mist Birds
Here between
the harbour
and the misted park
come and meet me
and bring along your pear nectar
and honey
and I'll bring wine
and rye
and we will be like
two budgies
who peck at our mirrors
and chirp incantations into the sky.
***********
Silver and wires
He makes the air slide
like slivers of silver silk-speech
spoken sleekly,
and still the wind
whirls with words
woven through waves of wires.
Mmmmmmmmmmmm
mmmmmm
m.
***********
Just Like That
Like running a violin bow across a candle flame
Like the great mechanical wheel that is the center of the earth
Like the wind up tin birds that take to the sky
Like when your consciousness ignites at birth
When the lioness so wild at your hand is tamed
All are equal to the lapis flecks in needle eyes.
**************
Ne'multes/Au revoir
When you go
little crow
be safe
and fly
until you
are just
a dot
in the sky.
***********
Tired
We waited until the vines grew up our legs
and our fingernails haven't grown long enough
to rip the stitches from our lips.
I knew that some day this ocean will erode your face
like some decaying ship
and fish will nestle in the bend of your elbows.
When mornings disturb us like an annoying phone call
and nights bring no rest
we are like two birds who forgot how to fly away
but flew too far from their nest.
***************
Tutji'j a' gwi's (Little daughter and son)
You pulled out my words
and I lost my talk
You cut my hair
and I lost my culture
You took my drum
and I lost my heartbeat
You took my Indian
But I am still here.
******************
Happy Birthday
For Stephen
I pray the coming years
bring you health and
the joy of your soul
spilith over.
I pray that you never hurt
going forward
and always remember
what it is to laugh.
I pray you recieve breath
when you wake
in the morning
and awake to the sun.
And I pray that
you dine on the
orange mint floss
of angels.
*****************
The List
If you walked beside me
you will always walk beside a poet
not the one anyone would call a genius
but would paint your image
the best she knows how
in the form of languages and fire
I can't promise I will bring you everything you desire,
but I can give you the following:
pleasure with my body,
wine when you're thirsty,
an ending to your story,
and give you a love
that will break your heart forever.
**************
Who Claims Sapphires
Legends say only the most powerful women can approach them
and have them choose who is worthy like some sword in a stone.
Have them beside her when she walks the streets and people know
how rich she is as they gleam in the sunlight
and moon light and at night glint blue sparks upon her softly scented skin.
I am a peasant who wanders in dark and dust and lust for such a jewel.
I'm only a dreamer of sapphires majestically adorning my mouth
and making me feel like I own land.
***************
It's all politics
Something has to give
when you feel like you're caught
in the throat of this city
which is being strangled
by some unseen giant hands.
The buildings cough and gag
and vomit the people out of their doors.
The heat wave burning up everything
that it feels like soon this whole
fucking city is about to explode
into a mushroom cloud.
That moment of blissful
silence
and slow motion
when the fluffy black cloud rises up
and trinkles it's radio active dust down on us
like gray celebration confetti.
*******************
Identity Loss
It sings like a brutal dove
or an ape with angel's glands
a song of enslavement
and not knowing where you stand.
You gave them your fingerprints
and gave up your identity
the evening you followed their song
leaving you caged without dignity.
Why stay where you are unsure
who you are anymore
when there's nothing tangible
and your identity can't soar?
***************
For Mony
You really knew how to shake up the street
splashing your boots against the concrete dans la rue Saint-Denis.
How I miss those nights at Promenade Bellerive
drinking all night and listening to mixed punk tapes on your old tape player
until the batteries wore out or we ran out of beer
whichever came first.
Continuez à vous riot, mon sœur !
*********************
On Waiting
He told me he keeps breathing in dust
that ghosts leave behind,
and wishes that he can claw out
from a bed that is like a cemetery.
When you are tired of sleeping
with worms and decay,
I will draw up plans
to write the formula for gold
When you separate all the lead from
the soil in your life.
****************
Wasting time
When crows perch on sundials
Time becomes distorted
And I wish that can happen
All the time
Wasting time
With you.
****************
Evening's End
Day moves to a close
like shadows on a cinema screen
till all goes dark
and birds close their
eyelids
like little pieces
of dough stuck on
under the darkening sheet
of sky.
**************
Patience
When you have moved to the address
located at the exact place where night and day cross paths,
and time is at a standstill,
I promise to meet you there,
when both of us casts only one shadow,
and our surfaces are both barren,
except for the collision that will happen
when night and day cross paths.
*************
(Untitled)
The air is so humid and heavy that you become part of the atmosphere around us
Your skin scent becomes heady like the musk of earth and wet stone
and I brace against your shoulders against the rhythm
ebb and flow
Until I splash over you like a wave
Exalted by your mad love.
*************
The wolf
I dared to stare too long into his wolf-eyes
gleaming the colour of moonlight on stones
he fed me his intoxicating nectar
and I fell under his fur
past his flesh
and into space and back
out
Lets stalk through this forest
lay down on wet stones
experience their stories
and wet leaves become
our hair flowing down
to cover the dead in
marshes.
**************
Poverty Hearts
This country is having a nervous breakdown.
Even God's angels have taken to whiskey
drunkenly plummeting off steeples
vomiting holy bile in the gutters
which staving children mistake for candy.
Yet Ignorance in a woke Tesla drives by,
shortly after dining on gold,
annoyed that all these children are screaming,
and will the drunks stop pissing themselves
and go home.
*****************
Voynich Address
Laying against the hill's pregnate belly
your words are heart beat breathy and
your eyes are glazed over like a ship
that is too far away to see.
Remember the time before this
when your body was not an artifact
and your name was a
word written in a tome
that only someone from 1000 years ago
knew how to speak it?
Yeah.
That.
************
The city is on fire
Pausing on my bike, waiting for a bus to pass
that's coming down Wyse like a cream coloured bullet
scattering the concrete heat
vapour blue wave colours of
the buildings all over the side
and a woman walks by
wearing a red wool worrying coat
In this heat?
The flash of a punk's spikes passes by
shaking loose men's neckties
wanting to throw off
the conventualism casting aside
and a child's strawberry ice cream
melts down their hand, pink on brown
making a beautiful and fun contrast to it all.
*************
Café flickers
People flickering past the window
glossed with rain, mumble about
the end of the world, and love lost
and complain about falling eyes
are the reason they lost sight of everything.
I sip my coffee, and I think
why complain as it changes nothing
and the world still goes on without our input
here on a Tuesday evening
too hot for sleeping.
*************
Visiting Grandma
The footsteps are still in dusty floors
that splintered under wet memories
that this place once had life
and those now are residual celluloids
played through walls
and out of the cracks in floor boards.
In the empty kitchen on the old oak table
is a white and pink flowered
cracked tea cup with a faded gold rim
against the dim aged yellow wall
where your ghost sits waiting for company.
***********
I've paid my time
Open the window and let me loose
I've paid my time
in the jail of your arms.
Let this bird fly on her own
into the sky
and over forgotten farms
left to rot.
We too will dissolve back
to the places we once came
like wood to earth
and I to your arms.
************
A Gift in this Post Apocalyptic World
You can't build castles out of the sand
of dust of fallen cities,
and you can't tame the fire that man discovered
and then betrayed.
When the smell of corroding metal
litters the side streets,
and we've lost the memory
of what grass was the colour of,
when we are craving the feel
of words on pages,
I will come to you
not holding onto
dusts of cities,
or words
or fire
but water
to wash your feet.
**********
Orchid Orphans
The scattering of seeds to the wind
we drift apart to plant ourselves
separate from each other.
Rain comes to wash
away our sins
as the sun burns
it away
anew.
**********
Reresection
The hardest thing about writing
is trying to move memories onto paper in the form of words.
To describe that moment you want to hold onto forever,
and give the dead life again.
Sadly I'm not one to give that reresection to you,
or move you out of my memory to live again
to put you into something tangible
I can hold in my hand,
like writing your name
over and over
on a piece of paper
to keep in my wallet.
*************
Prayer
I knew when you pressed jades into my eyes
and the nails fell from my hands
because a god had spoken
I saw and wept
for my own soul.
Thank you for sparing me
so many times.
***********
Feline Meditations
I adore how you can sit in the sunlight
and meditate for hours
and focus on a single dot
of sunbeam dust
then afterwards fall
into a deep sleep
where you run through
a jungle only you can
imagine having never
seen one but
know it's a world of green
flashes the colour of your
eyes.
************
Thank you
You were always there for me.
A blank unbiased friend that
allowed me to make confessions to
with no judgement.
I would meet you at a library with
your own words that always seemed to
describe me when I dug deep enough.
You went by many names:
Leonard, Evelyn, Rita, William, Elliot, Allen,
Jack, E.E., Sylvia, Maya.
Thank you for saving this child.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
************
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July 2024 poems
Mute Swans
There are two mute swans that
call the pond their home,
moving around at the stone edge,
like the inside curve of a skull.
Beauty, silence, and grace.
These birds of tranquility,
spoke no bird-words
but could say so much:
Human static is nothing
in the grand scheme of life; it passes.
It's the small things
that keep us safe.
**************
Dreams of Autumn
We open the final bottle of
summer melon wine
and split it under the moon
of soon slumbering summer.
Not too long now,
everything will turn to
burgundy, and gold,
and the sidewalks glossed
with sugar-glass crunch,
and cinnamon tasting air
with crisp cool apple ozone,
bright and shimmering,
splitting then autumn's
maple ginger mead,
under this unchanged moon.
***************
Strange dreams
The night before
my dreams were
green onion green
and
red apple red
and
I couldn't tell
which
doors would open
and
witches
beckoned for me
to be their sister
beyond the hill.
***********
Magnetic
Shadow-laundresses during
the eclipse work over time
beating your shadow against the rocks
cleansing anew.
You turn the dial on the moon
counter clockwise when you laugh
pulling the sea towards you
in a playful gravity tug-of-war.
Luna and La Mer gives themselves to you
by the glow of your aquamarine eyes.
Everything around you flows so natural,
like snow so light on the wind,
and the shimmer of iridescent shell backsides.
Your hand in mine provides me a
new religion.
**********
Rainy afternoon
Everything is still this afternoon
save for the tapping
of the rain's fingers
against glass
wanting in.
The trees shake
their hair dry
and look for
a towel.
****************
The Perfumed Garden
I move between two
ying and yang,
alpha and omega,
and you, and me,
and you, and you
and me,
together interweave
forming us into
Nataraja in
a cosmic dance.
People think differently
at night I whispered to
you and you,
and you kissed my many
limbs and we danced
all night between the
cool air and the
perfumed garden.
****************
Dragons in rain
Did you do it,
the way you said you would?
Did you slink and slither,
with iridescent scales glistening
multicoloured under street lights,
and find your cave?
I remember how smoke
curled from your nostrils -
a dragon who extinguished
his flame,
and you told me you
couldn't wait to shine your boots
in the rain.
You cleaned everything in the rain
now that I remember.
It made things easy for you.
Shine on babe. I'll see you
some day in flight over the
city's skyline.
***********
Lovers
When you leave your scent on my sheets,
and the taste of your name in my mouth,
this city becomes gold, and green
like some Nostradamus dream.
You sleep so close to me, and
our dreams entwine like our limbs,
and we are like midnight vines climbing
up houses, and make love to each other
under the blanket of moonlight.
Night time makes me crave you,
to taste your name,
to speak it low,
and lower still,
as we dissolve into
each other's bodies
like streams seeking oceans.
**********************
Snow Bruised
The trumpet sounds
silver splashes
into the mouth
of my ears,
drowning my hearing
like an awakening
I can't experience,
save for whenever I
close my eye.
When I awaken,
I can lay worthy then
at your side,
and kiss warm
your snow bruised body,
and joyously shed my
salt water heathen tears
beside your grace.
**********************
Remembering When
We knew how to run between buildings
undetected, and slip past the lights
that illuminated patches of parks.
Wild in the streets
wild in the sheets
and wide in the
view that we would take over the world
one Saturday night at a time.
**********************
Dogma
It doesn't matter if you use hooks
or feathered hands
Though the box will say
"handle with care"
no one ever does
and never will
**********************
silence
like a tongue crucified
to an oak tree,
with no hope for
resurrection
for what it speaks,
you remain mute,
by choice, and
never speaking again
of what you saw.
a silence so loud
that it can shatter
windows.
**********************
Ghost Movements
Such moves through this
fog - you -
slide through the distorted air,
and fleet past,
and my eyes can't
spit out the vision fast enough.
Standing - you -
just a finger's touch
out of reach.
**********************
Passing By
Every once in a while,
when the rain dampened the streets
giving off that wet concrete smell,
I remember you, and your opened door.
You on the step with a green coffee cup
which warmed your hands from
the damp day.
You are like a cut film strip
left on the floor now.
A look at a stranger's life
passing by a car window.
**********************
Severe Thunder
With the lightening flash
cracks
breaks
down trees into
stick like angels
and crows
black against black
skies grey highlighted
with rain
splatter
flutter
out from the
flash
clash
against white
doorways.
**********************
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