thin enough to call a barely breeze
-----weak
----her images--already ill-defined--began
to dissipate
walking
was difficult
marked by sin (among other things)
when wildly forward
was all she wished
upon nothing her ground--imaginary
plight--
exodus to fantastical future
where running and WILL
returned
to usher in another time
less stricken by the weight of day
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
be a breeze
----------- a birch tree silence
a swollen eye
------------- black envy
destination--sheets--the cool spread of sex
------------ a syntax misplaced by garment
---to know thunder---how it hollows the skies
with talk of murder
keep it smooth
---------------- sing about other things
like trumpets
and spring
----------- a birch tree silence
a swollen eye
------------- black envy
destination--sheets--the cool spread of sex
------------ a syntax misplaced by garment
---to know thunder---how it hollows the skies
with talk of murder
keep it smooth
---------------- sing about other things
like trumpets
and spring
Friday, August 14, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
white washed illness
stalled plows in the field
river bones mixed--
wash out to sea
whose salt
is sweat filled
teary night--
stripped ashy trees
stand unashamed
skinny naked trees
gesturing to bald sky
bald sky bares witness
to our embarrassment
as we grow
mute
and shy--
the heavens do not know pity
brothers and sisters
circular nature
company and split self
wetlands, coast, drying fields
fertile
rusty plow oiled slick and new
the corn is high and blue ------ while
history is made in backyards
urban slews, rooftops, alleys, near the silo
behind the brush fire, in the kitchen,
on the street
mingled with place
and people
stories are being told
borrowed time
walls
lots of walls
bricked up ------ plastered
coated and invisible
like birds in tree tops
birds in tree tops with their
invisible hanging houses
searching for the morning
the morning and sound
the salty sea
north
the south sweat
river
muddy and sensuous
the bones of stories
silos and plows
noise, morning noise
and mist
mist covering--a blanket over tilled land
tilled land filled with future
and past
quiet from its past
tilled by its future
while the long hands of century
hold
element over this land
stalled plows in the field
river bones mixed--
wash out to sea
whose salt
is sweat filled
teary night--
stripped ashy trees
stand unashamed
skinny naked trees
gesturing to bald sky
bald sky bares witness
to our embarrassment
as we grow
mute
and shy--
the heavens do not know pity
brothers and sisters
circular nature
company and split self
wetlands, coast, drying fields
fertile
rusty plow oiled slick and new
the corn is high and blue ------ while
history is made in backyards
urban slews, rooftops, alleys, near the silo
behind the brush fire, in the kitchen,
on the street
mingled with place
and people
stories are being told
borrowed time
walls
lots of walls
bricked up ------ plastered
coated and invisible
like birds in tree tops
birds in tree tops with their
invisible hanging houses
searching for the morning
the morning and sound
the salty sea
north
the south sweat
river
muddy and sensuous
the bones of stories
silos and plows
noise, morning noise
and mist
mist covering--a blanket over tilled land
tilled land filled with future
and past
quiet from its past
tilled by its future
while the long hands of century
hold
element over this land
Thursday, August 6, 2009
dramatic thought/untitled sketch
carry me to your chagrin
ferry me
dead weight eyes
cause (effect) a stirring
every thing lost
to crows kneeling sideways
against the snow
pecking bones
bare branched homes
sketching gestures to the sky
broken contour
too thick laid on its side
scratching a hole in memory
picking out the stones
praising all great mothers
wishing for the womb
sacrifice, arms
unaided cleft chest
pressed against safety
deft we deliver silence
absence
crossed legs
hanging breath
our own untimely living deaths
ferry me
dead weight eyes
cause (effect) a stirring
every thing lost
to crows kneeling sideways
against the snow
pecking bones
bare branched homes
sketching gestures to the sky
broken contour
too thick laid on its side
scratching a hole in memory
picking out the stones
praising all great mothers
wishing for the womb
sacrifice, arms
unaided cleft chest
pressed against safety
deft we deliver silence
absence
crossed legs
hanging breath
our own untimely living deaths
like when a space is clear cut for growing but then is forgotten and wild things begin to take over again
it is
hard to let go
of names
when naming
is everything
and more
working searching
for integral
connect
ruination
of self
of WILL
of bravery-
standing only as a front
for more sophisticated fears
that cleared the path for greater sins
like remembering
stretched out
ephemeral past without hard edges
what strange contrast she holds!!
time is not a divine right
it is only
until it is not
to say--
what sad stories we live
full of bright beautiful change
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Fox--Part I
speaking from a distance
knowing no other option
only
water --- blue and tied to solitude
meaning found
in cadence
subtleties
restless fevers shivering sweat tossed in damp sheets
speak to me
this holding of tongues is madness
against history
against certain stories
knowing no other option
only
water --- blue and tied to solitude
meaning found
in cadence
subtleties
restless fevers shivering sweat tossed in damp sheets
speak to me
this holding of tongues is madness
against history
against certain stories
Fox--Part II
the fox burrows deep
digging two exits
knowing entrance is easy
but to leave
to leave is a universal matter
tied to Great Things
like survival
necessity
the fox knows sound
whispering when to retreat
yet even instinct is compromised
as curiosity often weighs more
than danger
and sense
digging two exits
knowing entrance is easy
but to leave
to leave is a universal matter
tied to Great Things
like survival
necessity
the fox knows sound
whispering when to retreat
yet even instinct is compromised
as curiosity often weighs more
than danger
and sense
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
laid waste---stream
god must have laid waste to us o' so long ago. before the busy streets with yellow paint and tar before broken alleys and bricked buildings. before thick combs of people mashed together on sidewalks god must have laid waste. god must have laid waste to us long before flickering screens and wires with electric impulse and plastic bags with handles. god must have laid waste to us before planes could crash and before we thought dead earth buried black was any good to us. god must have been so mad to lay waste to us even before johnny apple seed and cannon fodder and domestic pigs. god must have laid waste to us o' so long ago. before stucco and the invention of saws for cutting down trees before we lost sight that trees share the same fate as us, before hygiene and fire god must have laid waste to the little souls rocking back and forth in tight caves with sand in them and with cold found foraged food below them. god must have laid waste to us crimson red with all kinds of glory and light and must have thought about dogs while laying waste to us. god must have thought about dogs and laid waste to us with panache and flair and a sense of fashion. yeah, god's got fashion and style and sense and panache. god's got it all under control from the tiny tunnels dug feverishly by ants to the tiny tunnels dug feverishly by us gods got style and panache. when god laid waste to us, i bet there was probably glitter everywhere, the kind that gets stuck to the cheek and glitters in the right light. yeah, there was definitely glitter when the waste laying was happening
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