NEVER carved and slash inked
in the metal below
a train window, last car
fleeing the gorges
glass and steel
and vowing just NEVER
Holy Hell
holy hell
you speckled dog
you turned the ashes
in my mouth to sweet
something i don't want to swallow yet
but the blue
under my skin
to brine.
your black nose
and deep ears
filled with me
and filled me in
and under my skin
holy hell
i wanted to fall
and grow there under your paws
but not crossed
shadowed homeless birds
or you as you stalk
uncovering
where they come from
unbraiding the grass
blue in my wrists
do you smell the trail
do you come or run
and guard your neck
nov 26, 2011
you speckled dog
you turned the ashes
in my mouth to sweet
something i don't want to swallow yet
but the blue
under my skin
to brine.
your black nose
and deep ears
filled with me
and filled me in
and under my skin
holy hell
i wanted to fall
and grow there under your paws
but not crossed
shadowed homeless birds
or you as you stalk
uncovering
where they come from
unbraiding the grass
blue in my wrists
do you smell the trail
do you come or run
and guard your neck
nov 26, 2011
Currency
currency in
trampled cigars spent
measured in
how sick i get
when full
exchanged for
sunken shoulders
trying with their all
to make room
the shape the shakes
of my body take
given and taken in
behind a wall
from the wind
hand to handed
in tight doorways
lent
trampled cigars spent
measured in
how sick i get
when full
exchanged for
sunken shoulders
trying with their all
to make room
the shape the shakes
of my body take
given and taken in
behind a wall
from the wind
hand to handed
in tight doorways
lent
Chinese Tourists in the Park
The Chinese men stroll so close
their knuckles knock
and though the darks of their eyes
are not the ones i miss
in confusion i conflate
all darknesses alike
and wish my hand
could knock against theirs
too close to avoid it
as we break new language in
their knuckles knock
and though the darks of their eyes
are not the ones i miss
in confusion i conflate
all darknesses alike
and wish my hand
could knock against theirs
too close to avoid it
as we break new language in
Land of Mine
this land of mine
not benevolent or civilized
but i will train your eyes
to see
my trees are filled with onyx crows
their roots tangle with pitch and sloe
the blood here doesn't run, it blows
but i will teach you how to breathe
you may not just go where you will
the hills leaden darker, not lighter, beyond hills
but i will teach you how to abandon feel
your way to me
i've built scaffolds over the deepest parts
when you're exhausted i'll build wheeled carts
but don't be disgusted with the dark
it's the only way my land knows to be
not benevolent or civilized
but i will train your eyes
to see
my trees are filled with onyx crows
their roots tangle with pitch and sloe
the blood here doesn't run, it blows
but i will teach you how to breathe
you may not just go where you will
the hills leaden darker, not lighter, beyond hills
but i will teach you how to abandon feel
your way to me
i've built scaffolds over the deepest parts
when you're exhausted i'll build wheeled carts
but don't be disgusted with the dark
it's the only way my land knows to be
Once Lives
Are the leaves kicked
layers of integrity
once part of a whole
once lives
layers of garment skin
ribbed and thin
rubbed weak
down to bits
or curled like exhaustion
in lungs
flattened like exhaustion
in eyes
layers of integrity
once part of a whole
once lives
layers of garment skin
ribbed and thin
rubbed weak
down to bits
or curled like exhaustion
in lungs
flattened like exhaustion
in eyes
Cloudcover
In this town of angles, lines
the clouds roll over
barrel chested but mute of thunder
staying to the margins
we'll never build into
their dissolute shadow dissolving light
reminding us we are spherical
our straight legs and strong
rely on arches
buckle over the brim
lean into the bend
lie like sickles in our sleep
the paths we drive
only seem level
but always bow
always carry us intentionally
back
around, arriving at the place
we set out to escape.
Find old bones
of our own limbs
torn from us
to make the getaway.
We find them precious again.
Though no memory
of the pain they bled from us then.
the clouds roll over
barrel chested but mute of thunder
staying to the margins
we'll never build into
their dissolute shadow dissolving light
reminding us we are spherical
our straight legs and strong
rely on arches
buckle over the brim
lean into the bend
lie like sickles in our sleep
the paths we drive
only seem level
but always bow
always carry us intentionally
back
around, arriving at the place
we set out to escape.
Find old bones
of our own limbs
torn from us
to make the getaway.
We find them precious again.
Though no memory
of the pain they bled from us then.
Rocking Sea
sails sun tattered
wind pushes through
on its way without you
alone you rock yourself to sleep
or something like it
in a crib of moaning waves
wind pushes through
on its way without you
alone you rock yourself to sleep
or something like it
in a crib of moaning waves
Slow Travel
Our thoughts have habits
of slow travel
winding weeks making a way
re-establishing the road,
gravel up, each time
keeping it firm
no matter the miles
keeping it straight.
So forgive the wasted time
now that you're here
i'm used to caring for your words
as pilgrims resting from travel
i've put them in my mouth
to keep them warm
i've taken them in my pockets
to keep them awake
and i've kept silent
as they stretch their aches.
Forgive me if my jaw locks
now like a blank page
when you're gone
these powers will return
just when you're out of sight
i'll remember how to curse
and regret not practicing
talk in real time.
But for now even curses
click hollow barreled
until i've filled them up
with that road.
nov 12, 11
of slow travel
winding weeks making a way
re-establishing the road,
gravel up, each time
keeping it firm
no matter the miles
keeping it straight.
So forgive the wasted time
now that you're here
i'm used to caring for your words
as pilgrims resting from travel
i've put them in my mouth
to keep them warm
i've taken them in my pockets
to keep them awake
and i've kept silent
as they stretch their aches.
Forgive me if my jaw locks
now like a blank page
when you're gone
these powers will return
just when you're out of sight
i'll remember how to curse
and regret not practicing
talk in real time.
But for now even curses
click hollow barreled
until i've filled them up
with that road.
nov 12, 11
If Still Green
If our mouths are still
a bit green
they'll ripen by then
they'll dry by then
they'll fall by then
they'll build by then
with a tiny heart of air
by then they'll crack and light
together they'll ignite by then
nov 8, 11
a bit green
they'll ripen by then
they'll dry by then
they'll fall by then
they'll build by then
with a tiny heart of air
by then they'll crack and light
together they'll ignite by then
nov 8, 11
Don't Let the Rain Put This Out
the light rain hisses and spits
on a wall of blazing vine
dying. fingers smolder at the ends
of a warm body. the world
is the emotions there are no words
for. here the word earth strains
it lies in taut grafts
inflamed by our need to say what
we cannot. only strike
and send up flares.
nov 7, 11
on a wall of blazing vine
dying. fingers smolder at the ends
of a warm body. the world
is the emotions there are no words
for. here the word earth strains
it lies in taut grafts
inflamed by our need to say what
we cannot. only strike
and send up flares.
nov 7, 11
The Backs of Books
I've turned all the books around
in shame in fear of their faces
to know what i've been doing
The days the same
their dawns waiting
nightfalls crashing
I'm huddled for cover
hidden in chatter
distracted and wound
oct 30, 11
in shame in fear of their faces
to know what i've been doing
The days the same
their dawns waiting
nightfalls crashing
I'm huddled for cover
hidden in chatter
distracted and wound
oct 30, 11
Shut Traps
we don't believe each other
we shut our traps
unsure which side is in or out
only of the lock here
my reasons and yours
between
my body and yours
and as long as it takes my hands
to rub down these walls
or world for another pair
it's fine. they won't be yours
i'm looking for. they won't be anyone's
unless that one can see my fists hide things
and leave them closed. leave me be
let me sing and swear
i want them empty
but never pry them from their gnarl
nov 6, 11
we shut our traps
unsure which side is in or out
only of the lock here
my reasons and yours
between
my body and yours
and as long as it takes my hands
to rub down these walls
or world for another pair
it's fine. they won't be yours
i'm looking for. they won't be anyone's
unless that one can see my fists hide things
and leave them closed. leave me be
let me sing and swear
i want them empty
but never pry them from their gnarl
nov 6, 11
With Thimbles
If our bodies go away
we sew them onto our feet
in flight
we know them as shadows
multiplying
a light abandoned trail
we sew them onto our feet
in flight
we know them as shadows
multiplying
a light abandoned trail
Dunes
the clouds on her thighs
make dunes
they hit the moon
she sifts them
hard-won time
she undoes them
new things
shows them
for what they are
what they are to be
from now
from here on
nov 6, 11
make dunes
they hit the moon
she sifts them
hard-won time
she undoes them
new things
shows them
for what they are
what they are to be
from now
from here on
nov 6, 11
The Honest Word
wake up, let me in
my lips feel like your cold hands
my mouth feels like the words
out of line
some old grammar
some buried thing
the honest word said
is no
a chant that goes
up from our torn out bodies
nov 6, 2011
my lips feel like your cold hands
my mouth feels like the words
out of line
some old grammar
some buried thing
the honest word said
is no
a chant that goes
up from our torn out bodies
nov 6, 2011
Whole
Take all my insides out
lay them aside
one by one, swallow them whole
there's so many things a mouth can hold
there's only so many things a mouth can hold
nov 3
lay them aside
one by one, swallow them whole
there's so many things a mouth can hold
there's only so many things a mouth can hold
nov 3
Walking Lines
Will walking lines be all i give
staccato, stalk, and slip
away along the slabs
and stare into where the starlight should be
cinch my shoulders
by the houses, shambles and sheets
sunken and still
silence my cymbals, make my steps
passing their septic sleep
sharing sidelong looks
stealing shadows from their dreams
nov 2
staccato, stalk, and slip
away along the slabs
and stare into where the starlight should be
cinch my shoulders
by the houses, shambles and sheets
sunken and still
silence my cymbals, make my steps
passing their septic sleep
sharing sidelong looks
stealing shadows from their dreams
nov 2
Wear
Clouds come on in watercolor
two parts paint, one spit
rust washing this place
making us ask
are the holes in our eyes
picked like the holes in our teeth
growing, filling,
wearing away again
oct 30, 11
two parts paint, one spit
rust washing this place
making us ask
are the holes in our eyes
picked like the holes in our teeth
growing, filling,
wearing away again
oct 30, 11
Motion
i walked with the wind
watched a train trundle
heavy with metal
when it was gone
the grass roared its echo
then laid itself to rest
pulled an onion from its undertow
peeled it to a stone
walked away with the shakes
oct 30, 11
watched a train trundle
heavy with metal
when it was gone
the grass roared its echo
then laid itself to rest
pulled an onion from its undertow
peeled it to a stone
walked away with the shakes
oct 30, 11
The Hush Hush
Come the barely lit days
the lambent season flickers out
with only wind to take its place
come the barely moved mouths.
Come the sky husked
translucent and spent
come the dark hush
whisper bent
come the hours used up
the urgency they lend.
Lips cracked deep in the center
with quiet
slowly cooling cinders.
oct 30, 2011
the lambent season flickers out
with only wind to take its place
come the barely moved mouths.
Come the sky husked
translucent and spent
come the dark hush
whisper bent
come the hours used up
the urgency they lend.
Lips cracked deep in the center
with quiet
slowly cooling cinders.
oct 30, 2011
To-Do
tuck your hair up
walk your ways
touch the trees
watch the headlights come through clouds
take your time
wear out this light as it leaves
hardening, draining
into ground, nest, sculpted sky
leaving you with only pages intact
and stamps
and metallic breath
leaves you with your bare eyes
oct 29, 2011
walk your ways
touch the trees
watch the headlights come through clouds
take your time
wear out this light as it leaves
hardening, draining
into ground, nest, sculpted sky
leaving you with only pages intact
and stamps
and metallic breath
leaves you with your bare eyes
oct 29, 2011
Picking Paths
picking paths
away from here
this city, its mad mumble
coming when called
to talk nonsense,
neat, perpendicular town,
at my elbow
smoothing my hair
checking for fever
Oct 28, 2011
away from here
this city, its mad mumble
coming when called
to talk nonsense,
neat, perpendicular town,
at my elbow
smoothing my hair
checking for fever
Oct 28, 2011
Gloss
if there was only so much breath
and a whir of fire under a kettle
to be heard over
would the truth bother with this wrapper
and string
or spill
not even into hands
just out and on
as blood or spit or sweat
a mess cohesive
denying its own pattern
until looked into
and a whir of fire under a kettle
to be heard over
would the truth bother with this wrapper
and string
or spill
not even into hands
just out and on
as blood or spit or sweat
a mess cohesive
denying its own pattern
until looked into
The Tells
we wait for rain to pass
but as it streams between the world
and here, our tells become
easy to recognize, all akindle
gathered for tender
and nothing left to add
just the hours until
the rain has passed
oct 18, 2011
but as it streams between the world
and here, our tells become
easy to recognize, all akindle
our own limbs
already burned to embers
grounded reasonsgathered for tender
and nothing left to add
just the hours until
the rain has passed
oct 18, 2011
Not Now
don't look now
the days gone
are catching up
coming around
flashing teeth
shaking hands
the agreements made
are out of date
no time lost
showing up here
out of place
catching my eye
making like a stranger
with new friends
oct 18, 2011
the days gone
are catching up
coming around
flashing teeth
shaking hands
the agreements made
are out of date
no time lost
showing up here
out of place
catching my eye
making like a stranger
with new friends
oct 18, 2011
Crook
many times
the windows are cracked
and leaned into until collapse
the silent downfall of a dancer
very little is taken
many times
the locks are pried
the bolt rolls over and clicks
gentle force like a suggestion
but the cheat passes the night
on the steps
never understanding the house
trembles with want.
oct 16, 2011
the windows are cracked
and leaned into until collapse
the silent downfall of a dancer
very little is taken
many times
the locks are pried
the bolt rolls over and clicks
gentle force like a suggestion
but the cheat passes the night
on the steps
never understanding the house
trembles with want.
oct 16, 2011
Vintage
the words of my mouth
backed by breath and sound
are distilled and aged in
cool cellars in the ground
not spent not spilled
to mud tilled in
underfoot and only taken as
undistinguished earth to be scraped
from your favorite soles
on a day without date
backed by breath and sound
are distilled and aged in
cool cellars in the ground
not spent not spilled
to mud tilled in
underfoot and only taken as
undistinguished earth to be scraped
from your favorite soles
on a day without date
If Ever You Need
nearby i keep
an open road
and though i cleared it myself
you may mistake it for
the nocturnal path of an animal
it never crosses another
it leads to water
gentle at the banks
hungry in the deeps
i keep it clear enough to follow
near enough to take
if ever you need
oct 9, 2011
an open road
and though i cleared it myself
you may mistake it for
the nocturnal path of an animal
it never crosses another
it leads to water
gentle at the banks
hungry in the deeps
i keep it clear enough to follow
near enough to take
if ever you need
oct 9, 2011
At the Stake
when work doesn't come
as it should
the body pushes through,
making motion through a sieve
and the line left slack
catches and knots
the nothing seems hard,
begins to feel like work again.
but blood doesn't move
it catches in bruises
around which all my effort folds in.
to make something true
the body must be staked
and burned and turned out
into ground or ink or soot
a material suitable for work.
oct 9, 2011
Fever
hips have a basin
to carry weight
not seen
to receive risen waters
broken levees
to make room, open, nearby
to keep the bones taut
broken relics
hips have a basin
so there will be a desert to wander
to burn by day
empty
and shudder by night
empty
oct 9, 2011
to carry weight
not seen
to receive risen waters
broken levees
to make room, open, nearby
to keep the bones taut
broken relics
hips have a basin
so there will be a desert to wander
to burn by day
empty
and shudder by night
empty
oct 9, 2011
September Eighth
wary
warning sign
the light leaves early
slips in and out and
undoes the laces
earnest but weary
and we will be alaska
land of midnight
when these signs
have passed us
sept 8, 2011
warning sign
the light leaves early
slips in and out and
undoes the laces
earnest but weary
and we will be alaska
land of midnight
when these signs
have passed us
sept 8, 2011
Feral
the play of a skirt up thighs
head thrown back to the sky
ribs make room for the sigh
a pair chasing through rows of light
a wordless cry
sept 4, 2011
head thrown back to the sky
ribs make room for the sigh
a pair chasing through rows of light
a wordless cry
sept 4, 2011
Silent Night
What one silent night can do
to staunch the blood let out
with awful progress
a moonlight herb, a rally
smelling spirits stirring
a rise from rigid shock
kissing wounds
with soft wake up sounds
sept 4, 2011
to staunch the blood let out
with awful progress
a moonlight herb, a rally
smelling spirits stirring
a rise from rigid shock
kissing wounds
with soft wake up sounds
sept 4, 2011
Reading Practice
I've read your moods
more than your face
and your body more
than your words
And in turn I've practiced
a face that says little
and words that never approach
We'll find the line of this story
lie and lie by lie
Silence is our white walled room
denying everything
waiting for everything
sept 4, 2011
more than your face
and your body more
than your words
And in turn I've practiced
a face that says little
and words that never approach
We'll find the line of this story
lie and lie by lie
Silence is our white walled room
denying everything
waiting for everything
sept 4, 2011
The Ways You've Been
Where your notebook sits, leave it
don't depend on your pen.
The planes of your house
you've washed with your eyes
the boxes you check,
let them rest.
You've always known
the nights are uneven
let them, rise upon rise,
build inside you.
Let their geography swell
time a rundown metronome
and language was only
something to put in your mouth
in times of ration
you've outgrown these measurements.
You've been searching
up under your hair, your nails,
sit still.
Forget your words for your body
it will take you on from here
and these ways you've been.
sept 4, 2011
don't depend on your pen.
The planes of your house
you've washed with your eyes
the boxes you check,
let them rest.
You've always known
the nights are uneven
let them, rise upon rise,
build inside you.
Let their geography swell
time a rundown metronome
and language was only
something to put in your mouth
in times of ration
you've outgrown these measurements.
You've been searching
up under your hair, your nails,
sit still.
Forget your words for your body
it will take you on from here
and these ways you've been.
sept 4, 2011
Hungry
If your hunger is a good hunger,
breathe it in
If your city is a good city,
say so on your return
If the day is a warm pool
with a lean, muscular cold
sliding along your neck,
ride into that
Your hands are good,
press them to your lips
eyes, nose, mouth them
If your tethers are good tethers,
love them.
sept 4, 2011
Road Need
There was not enough driving
there were not enough ways to remain unseen
there were not enough open roads
through total dark
there was not enough sense
between landslides of talk
there were not enough ways of remembering.
sept 2, 2011
there were not enough ways to remain unseen
there were not enough open roads
through total dark
there was not enough sense
between landslides of talk
there were not enough ways of remembering.
sept 2, 2011
Wind-Up Day
Our time together hand-wound
the dirt, our skin, holds the heat of the day
long past dark
the deeper we look away
from one another and across
the climbing hills
into the stars arriving
from the daylight ash
the dark walks behind me
matches my confusion step for step
hides my limp
arrests my hands and all
from reaching to break a fall
or scrambling up again.
sept 1, 2011
the dirt, our skin, holds the heat of the day
long past dark
the deeper we look away
from one another and across
the climbing hills
into the stars arriving
from the daylight ash
the dark walks behind me
matches my confusion step for step
hides my limp
arrests my hands and all
from reaching to break a fall
or scrambling up again.
sept 1, 2011
Help
there will be poems and
truth laced lines
to walk us through
to teach our broken bones
to work again
to convince
our blood drained hearts
they are meant for this
to lie against our
wail worn faces
and whisper them dry
by morning:
"the world goes on
god goes on
it's only you that dies
it's just you, don't mind it"
aug 23, 2011
truth laced lines
to walk us through
to teach our broken bones
to work again
to convince
our blood drained hearts
they are meant for this
to lie against our
wail worn faces
and whisper them dry
by morning:
"the world goes on
god goes on
it's only you that dies
it's just you, don't mind it"
aug 23, 2011
Spool
The sewing thread
spins the spool
undoes the soles from the shoes
and the flicker from the trees
and the locks from the doors
takes my "maybe" to make it "of course"
The sewing thread
in the bottom of a purse
lies in wait for fingers
sends them through others
making sense, making riddles
pulls my "maybe" through "of course"
The sewing thread
in its hundred thousands
follows black lines
in sidewalk cracks
in iris tenses mends
everything to this
"maybe- of course"
aug 25, 2011
spins the spool
undoes the soles from the shoes
and the flicker from the trees
and the locks from the doors
takes my "maybe" to make it "of course"
The sewing thread
in the bottom of a purse
lies in wait for fingers
sends them through others
making sense, making riddles
pulls my "maybe" through "of course"
The sewing thread
in its hundred thousands
follows black lines
in sidewalk cracks
in iris tenses mends
everything to this
"maybe- of course"
aug 25, 2011
Not What We Thought
So far
i know we are not guilty
but small and held together
as if buried under war rubble
i know we are not weak
but sore from failing to move time
time as hard as the sky
that will never adjust no matter
how we grow
i know these are not tears
that dry up others' mouths
but that wear down the mortar
masks we wince behind
i know we do not die
but pass from one hand to another
and our hearts do not break
but dream of air we have not tasted
and have been told is impossible to breathe.
aug 24, 2011
i know we are not guilty
but small and held together
as if buried under war rubble
i know we are not weak
but sore from failing to move time
time as hard as the sky
that will never adjust no matter
how we grow
i know these are not tears
that dry up others' mouths
but that wear down the mortar
masks we wince behind
i know we do not die
but pass from one hand to another
and our hearts do not break
but dream of air we have not tasted
and have been told is impossible to breathe.
aug 24, 2011
Tender
Witness the tender season
laying down its arms
going on its knees
hands up empty
letting hostages free
giving up bodies of fire
scraping the hard blue scales
from its helmet sky
sending its blood out
in the open to cool.
Still warm to the touch
the tender season
buries its face
in a pile of surrender.
Witness the tender season
lift its last head
look us in the eye
as life drops from it
degree from degree.
aug 24, 2011
laying down its arms
going on its knees
hands up empty
letting hostages free
giving up bodies of fire
scraping the hard blue scales
from its helmet sky
sending its blood out
in the open to cool.
Still warm to the touch
the tender season
buries its face
in a pile of surrender.
Witness the tender season
lift its last head
look us in the eye
as life drops from it
degree from degree.
aug 24, 2011
Winter Wood
Look winter love
see the room
drawn from the space
you've drawn out
from here to far away.
I'll sit at its baseboards
making tallies
of the numbered times i've
lost my own breath
and had to search it
in the winter wood
you've made this room of.
Once found, once I breathe
again as everyone does
in and out again,
i'll spend my drawn out time
drawing the black sky between
the limbs of your white wood
and bless it
for relating our messages.
aug 22, 2011
see the room
drawn from the space
you've drawn out
from here to far away.
I'll sit at its baseboards
making tallies
of the numbered times i've
lost my own breath
and had to search it
in the winter wood
you've made this room of.
Once found, once I breathe
again as everyone does
in and out again,
i'll spend my drawn out time
drawing the black sky between
the limbs of your white wood
and bless it
for relating our messages.
aug 22, 2011
Salute
The warning flyers silent
dropped around your ears.
I sent them slapping
from the belly of my planes
then droned away
to let you think
and time to escape.
In the whole city
in all your streets
you stood standing in place
over and over again reading
the printed declaration
the spelled out shame.
Run, was the gist,
get away
before I come back
with my mouths open
and my hearts marching past.
aug 22, 2011
dropped around your ears.
I sent them slapping
from the belly of my planes
then droned away
to let you think
and time to escape.
In the whole city
in all your streets
you stood standing in place
over and over again reading
the printed declaration
the spelled out shame.
Run, was the gist,
get away
before I come back
with my mouths open
and my hearts marching past.
aug 22, 2011
Turning Pages
Lost in the turning pages
of your face
weather lifts the corners
you spend mornings
smoothing one against the others
willing them to stay in place
two hands drawn down your spine
strong against your cover
your back
held close and closed
to reading eyes.
Lost in the turning motion
that feels like disaster feigning flight
and the broken weight
the sick lost gravity
that you can't know for yourself
whether risen or fallen
your open pages and their declarations
are useless
but for reading eyes.
aug 22, 2011
of your face
weather lifts the corners
you spend mornings
smoothing one against the others
willing them to stay in place
two hands drawn down your spine
strong against your cover
your back
held close and closed
to reading eyes.
Lost in the turning motion
that feels like disaster feigning flight
and the broken weight
the sick lost gravity
that you can't know for yourself
whether risen or fallen
your open pages and their declarations
are useless
but for reading eyes.
aug 22, 2011
Down the Wrong Way
can you hear of
the shame going down
my throat the wrong way
what should chase it
how to wind through
the canyons of city
i tried to love i tried to thank
i tried to follow through
still broke hands
strain as they might
can't uncover yours from your face
grit as they might
even teeth can't hold you in
you've gone deaf and tear blind
away to stay away
and me choking on the swelling space
aug 19, 2011
the shame going down
my throat the wrong way
what should chase it
how to wind through
the canyons of city
i tried to love i tried to thank
i tried to follow through
still broke hands
strain as they might
can't uncover yours from your face
grit as they might
even teeth can't hold you in
you've gone deaf and tear blind
away to stay away
and me choking on the swelling space
aug 19, 2011
By the Hems
by the hems
i snag
at your back
crushed along
others strutting
singing songs
the fray
your unraveling cover
i pull
washed in faith
crowded
from the way
you walk on
i see you're waiting
by the hems
i scramble
you know i'm coming
in my road weary way
aug 15, 2011
i snag
at your back
crushed along
others strutting
singing songs
the fray
your unraveling cover
i pull
washed in faith
crowded
from the way
you walk on
i see you're waiting
by the hems
i scramble
you know i'm coming
in my road weary way
aug 15, 2011
The Difference Between Bread and Wood
the difference, love,
is between bread and wood
neither of us know much,
enough, about either
but both suffer abuse
from the shoulders through
the wrists and often
the back, its ribs and canvas tendon
tender at the base but
terribly against the flesh of
either bread or wood
travels upward from this pain
and then down again to get it out
beat into another
i meant to tell you the difference
it's not important now, is it?
aug 10, 2011
is between bread and wood
neither of us know much,
enough, about either
but both suffer abuse
from the shoulders through
the wrists and often
the back, its ribs and canvas tendon
tender at the base but
terribly against the flesh of
either bread or wood
travels upward from this pain
and then down again to get it out
beat into another
i meant to tell you the difference
it's not important now, is it?
aug 10, 2011
Lost Men
in a man's eyes
what is there
may not be ready to take in
the lighter broader air
of love and its long list
of desires of darknesses
but a woman may
if she crashes in waves
on waves hammering
draw him to shore
may have him feel
himself pounded out
and in between
and without himself
him the fear
him the care
him the boy
until a man sore
and lost pushes up
from that sand
to answer his heart
a spiral echo
of one woman's crashing wave
aug 5, 11
what is there
may not be ready to take in
the lighter broader air
of love and its long list
of desires of darknesses
but a woman may
if she crashes in waves
on waves hammering
draw him to shore
may have him feel
himself pounded out
and in between
and without himself
him the fear
him the care
him the boy
until a man sore
and lost pushes up
from that sand
to answer his heart
a spiral echo
of one woman's crashing wave
aug 5, 11
a wild being
i be wilder
than your heart
be brave
i won't come to
your hands
to beg
i won't come near
but call out loud
i be wilder
than your heart
be brave
aug 5, 11
than your heart
be brave
i won't come to
your hands
to beg
i won't come near
but call out loud
i be wilder
than your heart
be brave
aug 5, 11
Troubling the Trees
birds trouble the trees
unless you can finish the season
it sings
don't bother with getting the door
don't bother with spinning yourself
out across the endless coming
you expect too much
the shaking limbs hum
of your going
and never expect
the ways of coming
and coming back
unless you can wait for your sunken line
to catch
it sings
don't bother casting off again
jul 20, 11
unless you can finish the season
it sings
don't bother with getting the door
don't bother with spinning yourself
out across the endless coming
you expect too much
the shaking limbs hum
of your going
and never expect
the ways of coming
and coming back
unless you can wait for your sunken line
to catch
it sings
don't bother casting off again
jul 20, 11
Bites
Apricots and skin
have always been
the same flesh
why send me home
lit up
but to send me safely
the come of the storm
tells of the year
come back
the wordless yet
tune slips
you're growing shadows
bite your place here
come back safe
to flesh
sweet after your shadows are sung
july 15, 11
have always been
the same flesh
why send me home
lit up
but to send me safely
the come of the storm
tells of the year
come back
the wordless yet
tune slips
you're growing shadows
bite your place here
come back safe
to flesh
sweet after your shadows are sung
july 15, 11
As Usual
My hand, as always,
skimming the fence
the rain will, as usual,
light our personal fires
all i have to say
comes in only
games for children
their sidewalk messages
to all, too simple
the only words they know -
houses and treetops -
their limbs fall all around us
we only have one further summer
left in us
but i will come around for you, as always,
for the fall
in the rain, as usual,
how never it comes.
july 15, 11
skimming the fence
the rain will, as usual,
light our personal fires
all i have to say
comes in only
games for children
their sidewalk messages
to all, too simple
the only words they know -
houses and treetops -
their limbs fall all around us
we only have one further summer
left in us
but i will come around for you, as always,
for the fall
in the rain, as usual,
how never it comes.
july 15, 11
Middle
the soft of my middle
the thrown of our cigarette
against a wall
fireworks on and on
so that the lyric falls
in the light fallen on our dark perch
you clear your throat
to say another
another and another
against the soft of my middle
and soft all over me
don't wish it away
don't wish it fall
unless into fireworks
on and on
july 15, 11
the thrown of our cigarette
against a wall
fireworks on and on
so that the lyric falls
in the light fallen on our dark perch
you clear your throat
to say another
another and another
against the soft of my middle
and soft all over me
don't wish it away
don't wish it fall
unless into fireworks
on and on
july 15, 11
Warm Without
there will be a passion
no longer, what it took
to believe in action
burned chemical and brief
the ways learned to master
worlds of others and their wills
brittle, soluble plaster
the space behind such walls
asserting through their cast
just the dark
the uncut and unframed past
all the fill of life
all the integrity ashen
but still warm and willing
to warm us to resurrection
aug 1, 11
no longer, what it took
to believe in action
burned chemical and brief
the ways learned to master
worlds of others and their wills
brittle, soluble plaster
the space behind such walls
asserting through their cast
just the dark
the uncut and unframed past
all the fill of life
all the integrity ashen
but still warm and willing
to warm us to resurrection
aug 1, 11
With Night
With night
sliding up my arms
with night
i go from here
with night
coming on
with night
rising to my waist
my chest
with night
i board, i go
with night
thin in places
with night
only under me
aug 1, 11
sliding up my arms
with night
i go from here
with night
coming on
with night
rising to my waist
my chest
with night
i board, i go
with night
thin in places
with night
only under me
aug 1, 11
Talk
We talk of all
the ways to talk
those ways fall away
who can hold me
with the shadow
of a slinking creature, hackles up
my only mirror
who can talk will
back into place
who can, without explaining the way,
talk to me
aug 1, 11
the ways to talk
those ways fall away
who can hold me
with the shadow
of a slinking creature, hackles up
my only mirror
who can talk will
back into place
who can, without explaining the way,
talk to me
aug 1, 11
Great Wave
never have i ever
written a poem about our
made up love
but i can say
that i've refused you
on insufficient grounds
only to regret it
or when you don't let sleeping
love lie
only to thank the ceiling
that i finally went
i'll tell you about when
you didn't know then
and you haven't remembered since
our hands woke us
blind past midnight
and led the way
easily for two as lost as we
there have been so many
ways to say yes:
no, okay
fine, what, i said okay
wait, hey i said, never mind
i'll teach them to you
so i don't have to make lines
about our made up love
for everyone to see just so
you'll see
it's never been bad since we
learned it under those empty
canvas frames suspended over
our tide thin sheets
our tide thin knowledge
folded and drug under
great waves
jul 8, 2011
written a poem about our
made up love
but i can say
that i've refused you
on insufficient grounds
only to regret it
or when you don't let sleeping
love lie
only to thank the ceiling
that i finally went
i'll tell you about when
you didn't know then
and you haven't remembered since
our hands woke us
blind past midnight
and led the way
easily for two as lost as we
there have been so many
ways to say yes:
no, okay
fine, what, i said okay
wait, hey i said, never mind
i'll teach them to you
so i don't have to make lines
about our made up love
for everyone to see just so
you'll see
it's never been bad since we
learned it under those empty
canvas frames suspended over
our tide thin sheets
our tide thin knowledge
folded and drug under
great waves
jul 8, 2011
Problems With Both
align skirt seams
with hips
always shifting
in and out of place
making small tears
under
skin and silk slips
under linen lines
checking hands on hips
in case
jul 7, 2011
with hips
always shifting
in and out of place
making small tears
under
skin and silk slips
under linen lines
checking hands on hips
in case
jul 7, 2011
Long Time Hurt
Things that were once ordinary
the spare room
the dark
the pitched singing
slip diving through it
the looking face who hadn't
yet shown up on life
or vice versa
hardly
the hard packed loneliness
that lead into
the open field next door
holding me up long enough
to run
All these things, all such
are left outdoors
there until ruined
jul 8, 2011
the spare room
the dark
the pitched singing
slip diving through it
the looking face who hadn't
yet shown up on life
or vice versa
hardly
the hard packed loneliness
that lead into
the open field next door
holding me up long enough
to run
All these things, all such
are left outdoors
there until ruined
jul 8, 2011
Public Transportation
For so much pride
I'd take a bus in the wrong direction
just to be moved
I smell the days pass and pass
stay lost just to stay
and use another mouth
your mouth
to breathe just to keep you
The trains hush
all that
and wind away to
this city my pride
panics through
jul 8, 2011
I'd take a bus in the wrong direction
just to be moved
I smell the days pass and pass
stay lost just to stay
and use another mouth
your mouth
to breathe just to keep you
The trains hush
all that
and wind away to
this city my pride
panics through
jul 8, 2011
An Apology
dreamed and dreamed
out our apologies
fought in dreams
dreams for years
how dreams year
year year howl
how long dreams host
hurt by hurt then
a night a dream
an ambiguity a doubt
beasts not of monsters
a question of intentions
and later much later still
we were already dead
it was easier
to apologize from the shade
without knowing one another
anymore
jul 7, 2011
out our apologies
fought in dreams
dreams for years
how dreams year
year year howl
how long dreams host
hurt by hurt then
a night a dream
an ambiguity a doubt
beasts not of monsters
a question of intentions
and later much later still
we were already dead
it was easier
to apologize from the shade
without knowing one another
anymore
jul 7, 2011
What You Will
By now you know
that leaving before you're left
makes little difference
to the bones you break
in order to take yourself
and leave the gifts you already gave
There are no limits
to of what your hands are willing
to empty
to others, fill up
others with other
than you, but
the lay of hand on hand
solders bodies, by now
you should know that
The limits of your self
you sieve from those gifts
show only in, bind only in
broken word, by now
you should know
you give your word by living
by breathing, ragged or deep
by touching the back of another hand
with the back your own
These things are not fair
you did not know
life was storm and teeth
but by now
you are finding it so
so invisible horizon you fear
crowding the indifferent world
against your limbs
the wide skies that would deliver
you over
wait for what you will
jul 7, 2011
that leaving before you're left
makes little difference
to the bones you break
in order to take yourself
and leave the gifts you already gave
There are no limits
to of what your hands are willing
to empty
to others, fill up
others with other
than you, but
the lay of hand on hand
solders bodies, by now
you should know that
The limits of your self
you sieve from those gifts
show only in, bind only in
broken word, by now
you should know
you give your word by living
by breathing, ragged or deep
by touching the back of another hand
with the back your own
These things are not fair
you did not know
life was storm and teeth
but by now
you are finding it so
so invisible horizon you fear
crowding the indifferent world
against your limbs
the wide skies that would deliver
you over
wait for what you will
jul 7, 2011
In the Listen
he smelled of a river
which one i don't
and will not know
his hands worked into
by the world
gnarled just as
a river does
over its deep heartbeaten rocks
which one you know
there's no way
for me to know
his voice rolled undercurrent
over and under and around
the space the generation
of space i barely exist in
i barely know of
he told me of the world
in rivers through a beard
that ran and fell
naturally from his face
to his chest
under his hands
gentle enough
to be allowed its course
a course which
i don't, i never will, know
jul 7, 2011
which one i don't
and will not know
his hands worked into
by the world
gnarled just as
a river does
over its deep heartbeaten rocks
which one you know
there's no way
for me to know
his voice rolled undercurrent
over and under and around
the space the generation
of space i barely exist in
i barely know of
he told me of the world
in rivers through a beard
that ran and fell
naturally from his face
to his chest
under his hands
gentle enough
to be allowed its course
a course which
i don't, i never will, know
jul 7, 2011
real birds
i have no guts
or even honor
i make sore muscles
in keeping away
the lake birds dive
and cry
and snatch at lifts
they are only real birds
when in their black bodies
again each morning
before the sun
black priests
before our eyes
the blotted bodies
of real birds
in cuts of flight.
jul 4, 11
or even honor
i make sore muscles
in keeping away
the lake birds dive
and cry
and snatch at lifts
they are only real birds
when in their black bodies
again each morning
before the sun
black priests
before our eyes
the blotted bodies
of real birds
in cuts of flight.
jul 4, 11
Plans
The cracks in the ceiling
in the walls
run me down
find me out
continue on
tracing my silences.
They say:
you hurt, you are not good
in the morning
you buckle under
the pointless roof
and your pointless head
and cry into peeled paint
perfect wrists in felt weight
but your deep dug bed
is turning, will turn you
out to me
the cracks in the walls
the ceiling
and the plans I have for you are made.
jul 4, 11
Sound in the Bones
They're in your heart
in the bones of your chest
the sounds you don't
know how to make
what to do with
but kneel
but shout back
but wonder what, who
sent that echo
eternally out
forever in
canyon long
if only behind the bones
of your tiny woman heart
jul 3, 11
in the bones of your chest
the sounds you don't
know how to make
what to do with
but kneel
but shout back
but wonder what, who
sent that echo
eternally out
forever in
canyon long
if only behind the bones
of your tiny woman heart
jul 3, 11
Strapped
The sun strapped
across my shoulders
and undone memory
I avoided that city
and its telling history
stories of where been
of what changed
and longed for
waking to the light weight day
waking nothing under
sun strapped skin.
jul 1, 11
across my shoulders
and undone memory
I avoided that city
and its telling history
stories of where been
of what changed
and longed for
waking to the light weight day
waking nothing under
sun strapped skin.
jul 1, 11
The Arrangement
Despite the music
the two danced to something
slower other
that bent between them
in close quarters
the kind of arrangement
that misles hair
breaks arms open
and cracked mouths part
the kind that leaves
rubble of the space
once made.
jul 1, 11
the two danced to something
slower other
that bent between them
in close quarters
the kind of arrangement
that misles hair
breaks arms open
and cracked mouths part
the kind that leaves
rubble of the space
once made.
jul 1, 11
a little crying
it should not hurt
so to talk like this
to breathe in the miles
and miles and miles
and nothing miles
between our houses
when they should be
an arms length apart
and that only
and nothing more but
thresholds and dreams and nights
and bread between us
this is a nothing saying poem
it is a shaken little thing
a pitiful unweaned
still warm-bodied
holding itself poem
jul 2
so to talk like this
to breathe in the miles
and miles and miles
and nothing miles
between our houses
when they should be
an arms length apart
and that only
and nothing more but
thresholds and dreams and nights
and bread between us
this is a nothing saying poem
it is a shaken little thing
a pitiful unweaned
still warm-bodied
holding itself poem
jul 2
Open Window Hands
open window hands
the doves go out, return
mourn the dawn
call us to our prayers
back to a god we limped from,
holding close the injuries
still unable to say
from where they fell
so to the vacant broken mouth
open window hands
send doves, go out, return
fill with mourning
jun 24, 2011
the doves go out, return
mourn the dawn
call us to our prayers
back to a god we limped from,
holding close the injuries
still unable to say
from where they fell
so to the vacant broken mouth
open window hands
send doves, go out, return
fill with mourning
jun 24, 2011
Dream Rot
disappointed i expected --
but what a one from
without the city, from without
the world could do
with only twine around
her earthen, half filled
notes, half felt breaks --
what a one who knew
so few names
but the few she only assumed
and cast about into, bait
for clearer bodies, lesser
smaller in their breath in their rage
for even one dream
enough small things filled her heavy
she felt deep --
with her one expectation wrappered, handled
as if a secret, as if hidden
it might become its own insides
but disappointed in the shade
of many fecund dreams of others
and many days grown dark
over
the grave cavern palms
under
receiving arms
the thickness pressing them away
the wetness the seep the drain
depressing rot into the seed
the ordinary way and mean
Jun 24, 2011
but what a one from
without the city, from without
the world could do
with only twine around
her earthen, half filled
notes, half felt breaks --
what a one who knew
so few names
but the few she only assumed
and cast about into, bait
for clearer bodies, lesser
smaller in their breath in their rage
for even one dream
enough small things filled her heavy
she felt deep --
with her one expectation wrappered, handled
as if a secret, as if hidden
it might become its own insides
but disappointed in the shade
of many fecund dreams of others
and many days grown dark
over
the grave cavern palms
under
receiving arms
the thickness pressing them away
the wetness the seep the drain
depressing rot into the seed
the ordinary way and mean
Jun 24, 2011
Little Thief
little thieves
with broken hips
only fill their hands
and not their pockets
they weave in drunken
talk in foreign
sit in silent
little spaces
but all i sometimes
think about
is half beaten
blood scraped
naked
taken for it all
happy through the vacant
bars between my teeth
between my eyesight
between my intellection
of what small talk
distracted me subtracted
the little thief
filling hands, mouth, pockets,
all
with my turned out collection
Jun 23, 2011
with broken hips
only fill their hands
and not their pockets
they weave in drunken
talk in foreign
sit in silent
little spaces
but all i sometimes
think about
is half beaten
blood scraped
naked
taken for it all
happy through the vacant
bars between my teeth
between my eyesight
between my intellection
of what small talk
distracted me subtracted
the little thief
filling hands, mouth, pockets,
all
with my turned out collection
Jun 23, 2011
Shoulder Blades, Vertebrae
The sand between my shoulder blades
between my vertebrae
chorusing there
in skin tones
I won't know or care
and when the sand is all that's left
it will decide between
the sheets, my skin, the morning
I predict
how little I'll be shaking out
and the shape still making out
in skin tones
between my shoulder blades
stuck between the vertebrae
June 18, 2011
between my vertebrae
chorusing there
in skin tones
I won't know or care
and when the sand is all that's left
it will decide between
the sheets, my skin, the morning
I predict
how little I'll be shaking out
and the shape still making out
in skin tones
between my shoulder blades
stuck between the vertebrae
June 18, 2011
Serifs
Learn to out louder,
learn to turn up your heart
the whisper fist swinging at me
still clinging to its beat.
Learn to roll your tongue
on the rrrrr's of that dream,
the serifs trailing running into me
speechless as called for.
You'll know your heart broken
when it splays open handed,
a thunder clap on an empty shore.
Recognize its last breaths, its sore chambers
and give eulogy to the sound it spent
itself making, make a small sound in memory
a from the hollow sound,
a back of the throat rrrrr,
that translates infinitely
webbed into all made memory.
June 18, 2011
learn to turn up your heart
the whisper fist swinging at me
still clinging to its beat.
Learn to roll your tongue
on the rrrrr's of that dream,
the serifs trailing running into me
speechless as called for.
You'll know your heart broken
when it splays open handed,
a thunder clap on an empty shore.
Recognize its last breaths, its sore chambers
and give eulogy to the sound it spent
itself making, make a small sound in memory
a from the hollow sound,
a back of the throat rrrrr,
that translates infinitely
webbed into all made memory.
June 18, 2011
Waste
waste plans and hands
and cleaned dried time
waste tied bouquets
and strings and strings of beads
of words of sighs of mostly
glory vain and straining
through and through long
eyelash shadows against
long rooted afternoons
waste good dreams on
laughter and roomfuls of
fright holding off holding back
always waste wait wait wait
wait here until its safe
June 18, 2011
and cleaned dried time
waste tied bouquets
and strings and strings of beads
of words of sighs of mostly
glory vain and straining
through and through long
eyelash shadows against
long rooted afternoons
waste good dreams on
laughter and roomfuls of
fright holding off holding back
always waste wait wait wait
wait here until its safe
June 18, 2011
Gore
the night sky leans into me
all day battered through with arguments
and love underneath, sore but proud
what will tomorrow take
and what are we ready to lose
there is no question of willing
in the noise of the looters' scrabble
those questions flew
lay us down in close quarters
to save something for tomorrow
the weaponry the space
to pull or invade or ignore
will wait for us to wake and rise
to shake ourselves from one another
to change our minds about the night we spent
and run the day bluntly through again
june 1, 11
all day battered through with arguments
and love underneath, sore but proud
what will tomorrow take
and what are we ready to lose
there is no question of willing
in the noise of the looters' scrabble
those questions flew
lay us down in close quarters
to save something for tomorrow
the weaponry the space
to pull or invade or ignore
will wait for us to wake and rise
to shake ourselves from one another
to change our minds about the night we spent
and run the day bluntly through again
june 1, 11
Half and Half Made Up
all frantic to
tell you where
and not how come
i can't
you'll fill in the blanks
then and gone (when)
we kept it simple
as easy as it was
your eyebrows fall in together
my smile does as much
as my boots do ring
in line line line
of course all paper writes
better than our hands
in our palms
our own strangers
impatient with these men
with my teeth
i'll tell you
that i took the note
i had left for you and
had it made into a pitcher
to pour black water from
as my hand
casts a shadow over the words
i scratched in hand
all into the dark
and sort it out
late
half and half made up
made believe mostly
skimmed in blue veins
counting by trains
and their stops
i lay my head back
how can i
be your only
can you be mine?
my heart fades under
lights of late
street signs
the train pulls out
like (it knows)
like the past
you won't get to speak
til next time
she teach me
i teach you
you teach me
to say line line line
you dance
from your knees (up)
at the end of the night
whenever
we find it
it's what's left
in my hands and
not yours
that we're left with
the knees fall out
from under
I slouch to you
shallow in my
swung from the hip
suggestion
just drunk enough
to know
you're jack
i'm gin
tuck in our chins
to laugh hard
and in our knees
to weep
me all numb in your stun
aside
i need to be
a good deal drunker an this
a good deal holier
it's late
i grew eyes
i held so still
what do we do with
the sweat under our shirts
our skirts
sleep dance on
straighten your back
to pass me in the doorway
and don't let me catch you
in waiting again
i can see your cheekbones
you weren't for me
aside
summer all
can't last that long
can it last that long
summer bawls
summer ah
the proof
is in just a stain
a bruise i
re-enact
a breath i
re-intake
my excuses are
boots on the wood
the solemn only sound
of a late coming spring
i get behind all i can
dance to
the musicians tune
we fray
you do the violence
i'll do harmony
i put you
but i don't see you
like i seen you
in a man's bed
half there and gettin so
you have to
you leave too
much time for
the lending
i can't believe and be
my heart and its
relentlessness
double up
what i have is
prettier than what
you say 'sing'
aside
it'll take a year
to believe it all.
don't be ashamed of
afraid of the things
behind your ears
may 27th, 2011
Measures Taken
there are
things
left to give you
held and handled
in their waiting
filled and then
emptied filled again
days and weeks also
respect the measures
taken here
standing watch
keeping the time
in hand
for your sake
not mine
what comfort
carpets the house
like waiting
like counting
long enough
it's been long enough
june 12, 2011
things
left to give you
held and handled
in their waiting
filled and then
emptied filled again
days and weeks also
respect the measures
taken here
standing watch
keeping the time
in hand
for your sake
not mine
what comfort
carpets the house
like waiting
like counting
long enough
it's been long enough
june 12, 2011
Rendered
Loosening rooms
as you walk through
a look laces up your back.
Not careless but aware only
of yourself unknown and lonely
of only your lack.
Sense nothing there behind you
all the sensations of your wake loom
and wind and wrack
What you so carefully decide against.
sparing only residual recompense
the room helpless, tender, at your back.
May 13, 2011
as you walk through
a look laces up your back.
Not careless but aware only
of yourself unknown and lonely
of only your lack.
Sense nothing there behind you
all the sensations of your wake loom
and wind and wrack
What you so carefully decide against.
sparing only residual recompense
the room helpless, tender, at your back.
May 13, 2011
Gently Goes
gently goes
the winter talk
and lately steps
barely fall
but for the boots
long worn down
winter barely
wrapped around
shoulders thin
and guarding sound
from choices kept
in bone and skin
until delivered
into hands
when new found talk
calls for them.
may 14, 2011
the winter talk
and lately steps
barely fall
but for the boots
long worn down
winter barely
wrapped around
shoulders thin
and guarding sound
from choices kept
in bone and skin
until delivered
into hands
when new found talk
calls for them.
may 14, 2011
With Looks
i fall in love with looks
with the nothing said look
with the "maybe"
"you know"
"i won't"
look.
never was there a stranger
who looked across
to another
but the two
fell in between
and in love.
may 11, 2011
with the nothing said look
with the "maybe"
"you know"
"i won't"
look.
never was there a stranger
who looked across
to another
but the two
fell in between
and in love.
may 11, 2011
Exchange
sand piled
wrist cool
under and turned
over sliding
against mine
warm exchange
courtesy and
a coursing need
to feign familiar
and stay
long into
the wander roar
then sleeping
idle on
all let out
now that there's
no need
for armour
may 10, 2011
wrist cool
under and turned
over sliding
against mine
warm exchange
courtesy and
a coursing need
to feign familiar
and stay
long into
the wander roar
then sleeping
idle on
all let out
now that there's
no need
for armour
may 10, 2011
Perch
again, what if
you are there
but its not where everyone thought
and you are
but not who everyone said
i love you as a child loves another
not expecting, but then, knowing
they will not ever be children
not ever the same
and someday, maybe
one will not recognize the other
or not find her in the place she last was
still in the end, or whatever it will be
their hearts are shorn
with found love for the new one
changed irremediably
but the same heart that
had fallen from its child's perch
may 10, 2011
you are there
but its not where everyone thought
and you are
but not who everyone said
i love you as a child loves another
not expecting, but then, knowing
they will not ever be children
not ever the same
and someday, maybe
one will not recognize the other
or not find her in the place she last was
still in the end, or whatever it will be
their hearts are shorn
with found love for the new one
changed irremediably
but the same heart that
had fallen from its child's perch
may 10, 2011
That Is All The Reason For Its Telling
dreams do not lie
it is written
in a book in the sun
they are all underbelly
all dark heart
at the center of the lightest joy
a stone to stumble by
require by
wait and see by
no lamp or window
but just a dark dog
a dark mean
a dark call
to see what can
be made of even this.
may 10, 2011
it is written
in a book in the sun
they are all underbelly
all dark heart
at the center of the lightest joy
a stone to stumble by
require by
wait and see by
no lamp or window
but just a dark dog
a dark mean
a dark call
to see what can
be made of even this.
may 10, 2011
Circulation
the songs i listened to then
in your room
that you listened to
wrapped a thousand times around
my memory until the blood beyond
that room caught at the door
the blood beyond
that window view doubled back
leaving us alone together
with you i was always alone
you might've known if I
could've sent my blood through
may 9, 2011
in your room
that you listened to
wrapped a thousand times around
my memory until the blood beyond
that room caught at the door
the blood beyond
that window view doubled back
leaving us alone together
with you i was always alone
you might've known if I
could've sent my blood through
may 9, 2011
It's Not Spring
it's not the streets
but what's underneath
and the houses say
little but what careens
behind them that's
a sound endearing
it's not the nesting strangers
but that they meet
in open doors and it's not
the trees new deckled
but the bare memory
it may be the wet gate
but more its easy swing
the night is not a time
but a place
safe to pass unseen.
may 5, 2011
but what's underneath
and the houses say
little but what careens
behind them that's
a sound endearing
it's not the nesting strangers
but that they meet
in open doors and it's not
the trees new deckled
but the bare memory
it may be the wet gate
but more its easy swing
the night is not a time
but a place
safe to pass unseen.
may 5, 2011
When Your Life is Your Friend
when your life is your friend
when it doesn't steal every little love
from you, or make you ask like a leper
for the days it holds
when it returns your affection
in verse or warm mouthed words,
that is the life you heard
was obvious and waiting.
why have you had to corner it here
weaving your desire into a cage
so you can find your life when ever
you like, where you left it,
pet it and call it ridiculous names.
you thought that making it comfortable
would make it stay
feeding it sweets
would win it to you.
why then are you both unhappy strangers
(or worse) plotting escapes from the other
May 3, 2011
when it doesn't steal every little love
from you, or make you ask like a leper
for the days it holds
when it returns your affection
in verse or warm mouthed words,
that is the life you heard
was obvious and waiting.
why have you had to corner it here
weaving your desire into a cage
so you can find your life when ever
you like, where you left it,
pet it and call it ridiculous names.
you thought that making it comfortable
would make it stay
feeding it sweets
would win it to you.
why then are you both unhappy strangers
(or worse) plotting escapes from the other
May 3, 2011
Easter Need
the Words are not enough
after so long
they still shy from my touch
same as the dust you drew into your lungs and out
and its patterns working up your calves
they mean -
i know i've heard this somewhere -
something
but not to me
i'd like to know you now
as you are - not of us
but drawing us into your lungs and out
rewarding water with wine
and dust with endless wind
where do i meet you when
you do not go or come
is this wide-eyed what-if
foolishness and faithlessness
is faith, in the end, no need to believe
but to breathe dust and be?
april 22, 2011
after so long
they still shy from my touch
same as the dust you drew into your lungs and out
and its patterns working up your calves
they mean -
i know i've heard this somewhere -
something
but not to me
i'd like to know you now
as you are - not of us
but drawing us into your lungs and out
rewarding water with wine
and dust with endless wind
where do i meet you when
you do not go or come
is this wide-eyed what-if
foolishness and faithlessness
is faith, in the end, no need to believe
but to breathe dust and be?
april 22, 2011
Neverwarm
In the city where
the insurance hoarders sing
to their headphones from the curb
where the Korean grandmothers sit pristine
in their lipstick and perms
where Phobia! is inked
into bus seats like a swear
where the days give no warning
or sign of warming.
Feb 18, 2011
the insurance hoarders sing
to their headphones from the curb
where the Korean grandmothers sit pristine
in their lipstick and perms
where Phobia! is inked
into bus seats like a swear
where the days give no warning
or sign of warming.
Feb 18, 2011
Crushed to Ash
It stays pressed between roots
it stays pressed deep in clouds
it stays in my own old shoes
and waits
for a bellyup day
for a telling face
for something, anything, to say
It stays pressed in my spine
it stays pressed into corners
it stays in my old unkempt habits
and dreams
for messenger waves
for equinox dates
for dreams to pray
a poorly lit flame
a neglected space
that but for shame
would be crushed
to ash between hands
apr 21, 2011
it stays pressed deep in clouds
it stays in my own old shoes
and waits
for a bellyup day
for a telling face
for something, anything, to say
It stays pressed in my spine
it stays pressed into corners
it stays in my old unkempt habits
and dreams
for messenger waves
for equinox dates
for dreams to pray
a poorly lit flame
a neglected space
that but for shame
would be crushed
to ash between hands
apr 21, 2011
The Dream Before the Basement
Before that
I had gone to the nation of new
where the roads which way were piles
shambled and on the rise
I never thought of my bare feet
only combed the streetside
full of steam and vendor boil
some still alive and on display for it
hawking the wrong
i ate and ate
mostly still, long still, mouthfuls
But my feet and nails shined soft
began to hamper at the wrong
began to think of a future
among it all
I dropped the dish in hand
and hurried to the cart on the threshold hill
with already clotted peasant shoes
bought a pair lined black and too hot
apr 16 2011
I had gone to the nation of new
where the roads which way were piles
shambled and on the rise
I never thought of my bare feet
only combed the streetside
full of steam and vendor boil
some still alive and on display for it
hawking the wrong
i ate and ate
mostly still, long still, mouthfuls
But my feet and nails shined soft
began to hamper at the wrong
began to think of a future
among it all
I dropped the dish in hand
and hurried to the cart on the threshold hill
with already clotted peasant shoes
bought a pair lined black and too hot
apr 16 2011
Basement
acting, of course
always a version
only it doesn't finally pull the time
inside out, like everything else in here
in a dream i went
down and down continued
as many times as I could think the word without forgetting
where i went and was
always only after
i had swung the last cage slat into a stair
when the bottom came
there was sunlight, understood
and extended family
the indoors of a childhood
but the faces, every
had been pulled inside
even new babies
every one so proud of the resemblance
and then i remembered
sunlight too late
the slats were for a cage again
i had to look into their pits
and call them faces
i had to look at the basement light
and call it understood
apr 16, 2011
always a version
only it doesn't finally pull the time
inside out, like everything else in here
in a dream i went
down and down continued
as many times as I could think the word without forgetting
where i went and was
always only after
i had swung the last cage slat into a stair
when the bottom came
there was sunlight, understood
and extended family
the indoors of a childhood
but the faces, every
had been pulled inside
even new babies
every one so proud of the resemblance
and then i remembered
sunlight too late
the slats were for a cage again
i had to look into their pits
and call them faces
i had to look at the basement light
and call it understood
apr 16, 2011
The Sand In My Shoes
i left the sand in my shoes
and my pride
in the tomb dug by lake water and sky
we would have liked to shake it by the bars
but for who might hear
and meet our eyes
fear gravity working its way
up our legs
we went to our knees
and maybe should have gone upon them
the night exhausted itself in our arms
i left room in my mouth
and the cold standing in for sentences
i left my wracked body intact
a prayer to unmeasured time
and i think that you must have
left much to say
april 14, 2011
and my pride
in the tomb dug by lake water and sky
we would have liked to shake it by the bars
but for who might hear
and meet our eyes
fear gravity working its way
up our legs
we went to our knees
and maybe should have gone upon them
the night exhausted itself in our arms
i left room in my mouth
and the cold standing in for sentences
i left my wracked body intact
a prayer to unmeasured time
and i think that you must have
left much to say
april 14, 2011
Last Lines
Every last line strikes me like an open hand
stinging the same as that first
and last time my mother slapped
me - a zero second -
a pulse that wandered from the fold.
Only as the wind oscillates
mouth to lungs does memory return
marching, warming the intentional shape
across my face.
april 11, 2011
stinging the same as that first
and last time my mother slapped
me - a zero second -
a pulse that wandered from the fold.
Only as the wind oscillates
mouth to lungs does memory return
marching, warming the intentional shape
across my face.
april 11, 2011
Into Grief
finally breath
out candle
pocked laughter
cracking in two
into grief
trying opposites
trying peace
try to piece
one tear to another
the tied sheets
slung over sills
swing relieved
of their escapee
the horror of
not breathing
shrieks down the street
away laughing away
finally free.
april 11, 2011
out candle
pocked laughter
cracking in two
into grief
trying opposites
trying peace
try to piece
one tear to another
the tied sheets
slung over sills
swing relieved
of their escapee
the horror of
not breathing
shrieks down the street
away laughing away
finally free.
april 11, 2011
To Get It Down
eating silk
letting the cups dirty
but her legs shaved
the heartbreak song
had been so inappropriate then
yet it moved
and now
it had probably been the end
all along
eating silk
all that's left
the cups season
she swallows and swallows
to get it down
her legs lie for no one
for weeks there was no hunger
and now
it had been coming to an end
all along
april 11, 2011
letting the cups dirty
but her legs shaved
the heartbreak song
had been so inappropriate then
yet it moved
and now
it had probably been the end
all along
eating silk
all that's left
the cups season
she swallows and swallows
to get it down
her legs lie for no one
for weeks there was no hunger
and now
it had been coming to an end
all along
april 11, 2011
An Arkansan
She'll be the one who stays
who watches the hem haw sky
turn an unusual blue
who upturns the tried true hedges
to stir up the scandal of dirt and underbellies
who lets her life out in the sleeptalk of children
into a local smoke
familiar above the trees
to the flaming sky -
She'll be the one there
seeing the unseen and naming it forgotten things
we scatter in lieu of travel, of inquiry and hunt
she digs and plants and burns piles
under her nose
we lose our senses
while hers grow into one another.
apr 9, 11
who watches the hem haw sky
turn an unusual blue
who upturns the tried true hedges
to stir up the scandal of dirt and underbellies
who lets her life out in the sleeptalk of children
into a local smoke
familiar above the trees
to the flaming sky -
She'll be the one there
seeing the unseen and naming it forgotten things
we scatter in lieu of travel, of inquiry and hunt
she digs and plants and burns piles
under her nose
we lose our senses
while hers grow into one another.
apr 9, 11
Lie Like a Child
I lied about tomorrow
I always do
I pack time in my palms
into stones
tell you how they skip
over taut water.
I lied about knowing Jesus
I always do
I don't know how to
fortify the water's surface
and saunter to you.
I lied like a child
I always do
I pack images together in my palms
into a house
forgetting to leave
gaps in the story, a door to get in.
I stand outside you.
apr 10, 11
I always do
I pack time in my palms
into stones
tell you how they skip
over taut water.
I lied about knowing Jesus
I always do
I don't know how to
fortify the water's surface
and saunter to you.
I lied like a child
I always do
I pack images together in my palms
into a house
forgetting to leave
gaps in the story, a door to get in.
I stand outside you.
apr 10, 11
a little will
if i don't have to love you
i'd rather not
but if i do
i will -
know that-
you won't need to ask
i've become good at
fighting hard for little ground
apr 10, 11
i'd rather not
but if i do
i will -
know that-
you won't need to ask
i've become good at
fighting hard for little ground
apr 10, 11
Undecided
We touch undecidedly
what we want
may lie just under the skin
rising or dying
or running
losing it from limbs
filling smaller courts
holding out judgement there
until we can tell
up under our tracing fingers
what it is we want
apr 10, 11
what we want
may lie just under the skin
rising or dying
or running
losing it from limbs
filling smaller courts
holding out judgement there
until we can tell
up under our tracing fingers
what it is we want
apr 10, 11
Ground Cover
There is a path in Beijing
of course there are many
but there is one worn by me
and left there
does it wave after me
or lie still
ground covered, but not recovered by me
until my shallow path is undergone
by a few days remembered but disappeared
apr 8, 11
of course there are many
but there is one worn by me
and left there
does it wave after me
or lie still
ground covered, but not recovered by me
until my shallow path is undergone
by a few days remembered but disappeared
apr 8, 11
But By Me
You know the way
and the way knows you
know nothing
you are the way
and the way
with purpose loses you
no good shepherd
except that
when you lose the way
you have found something
or if the way loses you
never by coincidence
it has led you still
somewhere
But the third and also constant
companion is Another
Their way is not your way
And,
of course, it is
"I am the way, the truth, and the life.
No one comes to the father but by me"
apr 8, 11
and the way knows you
know nothing
you are the way
and the way
with purpose loses you
no good shepherd
except that
when you lose the way
you have found something
or if the way loses you
never by coincidence
it has led you still
somewhere
But the third and also constant
companion is Another
Their way is not your way
And,
of course, it is
"I am the way, the truth, and the life.
No one comes to the father but by me"
apr 8, 11
Power Lines
How a city
can make you feel warmed
as if the torsos caked around you
are meant to be
are loved ones and familiar
the million look-away eyes
are thinking of you
and how nice it is
to hum here together
as if your songs were in tune
or the shape of the throat
they clamber up
as if the stairs and streets,
the tunnels through daylight
were worn lanes with our names
in the bark, in the pavement
and as if the city were not
just twisted lines of strangers and ghosts.
apr 7, 11
can make you feel warmed
as if the torsos caked around you
are meant to be
are loved ones and familiar
the million look-away eyes
are thinking of you
and how nice it is
to hum here together
as if your songs were in tune
or the shape of the throat
they clamber up
as if the stairs and streets,
the tunnels through daylight
were worn lanes with our names
in the bark, in the pavement
and as if the city were not
just twisted lines of strangers and ghosts.
apr 7, 11
Still No Oracle
We watch for signs
in birds of flight
and the close breath of first blooms
we listen to the winter withered vines
and the shingles' clay tide
still no oracle
she holds my hand
like a small, hurt creature
making all the future faith
worth learning
apr 8, 11
in birds of flight
and the close breath of first blooms
we listen to the winter withered vines
and the shingles' clay tide
still no oracle
she holds my hand
like a small, hurt creature
making all the future faith
worth learning
apr 8, 11
Kite Hearts
Through the night I've been
gathering the day
in your wake these crowds bizarre
their walls of not-you faces
heave their weight into the space
you're stringing me through
Just keep feeding the line
our kite hearts
have always met above such earth
mar 26, 2011
gathering the day
in your wake these crowds bizarre
their walls of not-you faces
heave their weight into the space
you're stringing me through
Just keep feeding the line
our kite hearts
have always met above such earth
mar 26, 2011
For All the Pretty Potty-Mouthed Girls
For all the pretty potty-mouthed girls
your breath smells of hope
and the powers you curse
wantonly dashing your all
again and again against
what is expected of a girl,
especially a pretty one.
To those expectations you add only
your potty-mouth
and they come humiliated to beg
at your drunken feet.
Mar 26, 11
your breath smells of hope
and the powers you curse
wantonly dashing your all
again and again against
what is expected of a girl,
especially a pretty one.
To those expectations you add only
your potty-mouth
and they come humiliated to beg
at your drunken feet.
Mar 26, 11
From the Train Platform
Sometime time will finally start
and pass me by, windows flashing teeth
and I'll do it differently than you.
But now, in an unblinking caress
time and I
lean into one another
and remember you in every idleness
what better to hold between us?
mar 26, 11
and pass me by, windows flashing teeth
and I'll do it differently than you.
But now, in an unblinking caress
time and I
lean into one another
and remember you in every idleness
what better to hold between us?
mar 26, 11
Complaint
Lungs complain of the body
clamped down on them
and shudder at the efforts
the body takes to be able to smell another
as well as sight
as well as touch
and taste
Lungs inoculated with days
and days drawn from them
they wonder
why their captors chase such days
what is so important
in the evening scent of neck
in the shape lips list love from
in the catch in a cracked word
your name whispered head to sole
the tide of one hand onto another
and the further tide that follows
Lungs do not understand
and so consider ceding
their long-suffered chore
mar 26, 11
clamped down on them
and shudder at the efforts
the body takes to be able to smell another
as well as sight
as well as touch
and taste
Lungs inoculated with days
and days drawn from them
they wonder
why their captors chase such days
what is so important
in the evening scent of neck
in the shape lips list love from
in the catch in a cracked word
your name whispered head to sole
the tide of one hand onto another
and the further tide that follows
Lungs do not understand
and so consider ceding
their long-suffered chore
mar 26, 11
Badly Dug Grave
The feeling is
all the blood from under my chest,
wide and brimming,
suddenly escaping into the past
- that is the feeling -
someone has dug a grave there
and dug it badly
not frozen and measured straight
but sloping and sinking in on itself
the sun topples in and is lost
forever warming the past.
mar 26, 11
all the blood from under my chest,
wide and brimming,
suddenly escaping into the past
- that is the feeling -
someone has dug a grave there
and dug it badly
not frozen and measured straight
but sloping and sinking in on itself
the sun topples in and is lost
forever warming the past.
mar 26, 11
Mountains of Poetry
I did not write mountains
I wrote guilt, and not enough
and begged the oranges from short trees
instead of climbing up into their eaves
and what wouldn't fall, I shot.
He reminds me to take my finger
from the trigger of my heart
to let the barrel empty in the floor
leaving room for the mystery
in season and hanging, whistling
just out of easy reach.
Mar 26, 2011
I wrote guilt, and not enough
and begged the oranges from short trees
instead of climbing up into their eaves
and what wouldn't fall, I shot.
He reminds me to take my finger
from the trigger of my heart
to let the barrel empty in the floor
leaving room for the mystery
in season and hanging, whistling
just out of easy reach.
Mar 26, 2011
On and On
Mountains on and on
filtered by dust
smoke and clouds
letters come on like poems
and music a muffle
to the cymbals of all
the crowds
the stares the stones
Time fairly flies
we snatch at it
stealing hems and leftovers
These rivers
must always be forded
there is no bridge
and crossing leaves us
soaked dark and exhausted
mar 31, 2011
filtered by dust
smoke and clouds
letters come on like poems
and music a muffle
to the cymbals of all
the crowds
the stares the stones
Time fairly flies
we snatch at it
stealing hems and leftovers
These rivers
must always be forded
there is no bridge
and crossing leaves us
soaked dark and exhausted
mar 31, 2011
Arrows
This is an East to West city
an arrow dissolving
at its point
warming the flesh of God
but grown over by it.
Somewhere somewhere
we'd like our prayers
to warm God like that
then only to be absolved.
Mar 31, 2011
an arrow dissolving
at its point
warming the flesh of God
but grown over by it.
Somewhere somewhere
we'd like our prayers
to warm God like that
then only to be absolved.
Mar 31, 2011
Proletariat Eyes
My body replaces only
dust in flight
a wearing thin page.
theirs are iron shovels
every limb
replacing a limb of resisting earth
ungiving root
pouring their dark eyes
hand over hand
into the hollow.
my paper body
sometimes rolled, sometimes bound
hides on every balcony
too far above for the earth's
new made eyes to notice
to wonder how different we are.
mar 31, 11
dust in flight
a wearing thin page.
theirs are iron shovels
every limb
replacing a limb of resisting earth
ungiving root
pouring their dark eyes
hand over hand
into the hollow.
my paper body
sometimes rolled, sometimes bound
hides on every balcony
too far above for the earth's
new made eyes to notice
to wonder how different we are.
mar 31, 11
He Was Born in Spring
Just as the sun remembered
the old paths once familiar
just as it turned to
clear them through the starry wilds again
he was born screaming
the sun heard and hurried northward
Now the winter snatches at his heels
and twists his footfalls
to swallow his plans in the time
between the stars
but he was born in Spring
and won't rest until
he meets the sun on these northpaths again
feb 13, 11
the old paths once familiar
just as it turned to
clear them through the starry wilds again
he was born screaming
the sun heard and hurried northward
Now the winter snatches at his heels
and twists his footfalls
to swallow his plans in the time
between the stars
but he was born in Spring
and won't rest until
he meets the sun on these northpaths again
feb 13, 11
Not Job's Friends
I will not be like Job's friends
and tell you who is god
I will only rub into your sight
the flicking nightmare streets
and lost worded women drug through
the scratch of bones under clothing
and endangered arms meant to hold
you will see empty wrapper eyes
and you will know.
But as a friend I will not leave you deafened,
but breathe into your fragile ears
and I will do it slow so they can
fill and overflow in whisper want
at the glowing moss living as skin
at the rolled open child with sky wide eyes
at blooded limbs that lift from plaster
at kindred coincidences finding themselves finally
with a hand on the right door
and then you will know,
although you have not seen or heard -
and the pottery wounds will still scab
and hell will still stab up into your path
and the kite of your heart will still lie parceled to scraps -
who God is.
mar 24, 2011
and tell you who is god
I will only rub into your sight
the flicking nightmare streets
and lost worded women drug through
the scratch of bones under clothing
and endangered arms meant to hold
you will see empty wrapper eyes
and you will know.
But as a friend I will not leave you deafened,
but breathe into your fragile ears
and I will do it slow so they can
fill and overflow in whisper want
at the glowing moss living as skin
at the rolled open child with sky wide eyes
at blooded limbs that lift from plaster
at kindred coincidences finding themselves finally
with a hand on the right door
and then you will know,
although you have not seen or heard -
and the pottery wounds will still scab
and hell will still stab up into your path
and the kite of your heart will still lie parceled to scraps -
who God is.
mar 24, 2011
Oh Lover, Stranger
Oh Lord (read: Lover), God (read: Stranger) of
heart and skin
of marrow and sight
of song and dread
of dust and blood
of thaw and threat
of word and gasp
of desire and lack
of howl and sleep
of injury and of earth
of here and never
of water and spite
of wreck and wine
of heist and drown
and way and walls
of face, of rock
Oh Lover, Stranger of
all
there is no God
no one
no all
like you.
mar 22, 2011
heart and skin
of marrow and sight
of song and dread
of dust and blood
of thaw and threat
of word and gasp
of desire and lack
of howl and sleep
of injury and of earth
of here and never
of water and spite
of wreck and wine
of heist and drown
and way and walls
of face, of rock
Oh Lover, Stranger of
all
there is no God
no one
no all
like you.
mar 22, 2011
Fireworks On Another Cold Day
I would press my forehead against
the glass of that lowering sky
press my skull's thinness into it
until a bloom, a blossom, a wilt
of blood cracks there
and red and pink and purple
calls the sun god to answer
blood for blood
fill that coward sky
Mar 21, 2011
the glass of that lowering sky
press my skull's thinness into it
until a bloom, a blossom, a wilt
of blood cracks there
and red and pink and purple
calls the sun god to answer
blood for blood
fill that coward sky
Mar 21, 2011
Day In and Out
In the morning
an early shade
passes through
my half spun dreams
threaded by
the night I passed
watching over
her early sleep
mar 21, 2o11
an early shade
passes through
my half spun dreams
threaded by
the night I passed
watching over
her early sleep
mar 21, 2o11
Enters the Season
We both breathe in
the dog and I
until it aches
and in the reaching
we both fill
with rainwater under cedars
and the stretched out bellies
of resurrection worms
and with that difficult breath
we raise our noses
and the hair on our necks
to the vanishing lightning
to the silent whip of its dress
in the camera stun
mar 21, 2011
the dog and I
until it aches
and in the reaching
we both fill
with rainwater under cedars
and the stretched out bellies
of resurrection worms
and with that difficult breath
we raise our noses
and the hair on our necks
to the vanishing lightning
to the silent whip of its dress
in the camera stun
mar 21, 2011
Job's Revision
God sheds darkness
sent heavy like a slab of wall
the understructure of light
the real beams of noontime
shine with density only
shine with the chaos of a shut eye
the hunger heaped there
And sloughed from the feet of God.
And to what shall I compare the darkness of God?
it is like his coat no longer warm
it is like his dreams no longer dreams
but nightmares and so the darkness falls
from the very forearms of God
as he wipes them across his face.
Mar 20, 2011
sent heavy like a slab of wall
the understructure of light
the real beams of noontime
shine with density only
shine with the chaos of a shut eye
the hunger heaped there
And sloughed from the feet of God.
And to what shall I compare the darkness of God?
it is like his coat no longer warm
it is like his dreams no longer dreams
but nightmares and so the darkness falls
from the very forearms of God
as he wipes them across his face.
Mar 20, 2011
hope keeper
the faith is thin
it breaks in its own steps
it's been long suffered
it's been long held tightly
it's been long draining
from under the skin
a colour gone
a temperature abandoned
hope is all that hangs on shoulders
all that sticks to the roof of a mouth
it is not faith
it does not fill
but keeps the empty halls
clean ready for what must come.
Mar 20, 2011
it breaks in its own steps
it's been long suffered
it's been long held tightly
it's been long draining
from under the skin
a colour gone
a temperature abandoned
hope is all that hangs on shoulders
all that sticks to the roof of a mouth
it is not faith
it does not fill
but keeps the empty halls
clean ready for what must come.
Mar 20, 2011
Left There
Words become secrets
when they're not heard
and there are many
you kick up as dust
lips don't move them
and ears don't enfold them
they rise and settle to rise again.
You haven't seen them
smeared in the sunlit air
or on your resting fingertips?
You haven't discovered
them left behind like accidents
or swept under conversations?
Well they may make fossils there
or rise again.
Mar 1, 2011
when they're not heard
and there are many
you kick up as dust
lips don't move them
and ears don't enfold them
they rise and settle to rise again.
You haven't seen them
smeared in the sunlit air
or on your resting fingertips?
You haven't discovered
them left behind like accidents
or swept under conversations?
Well they may make fossils there
or rise again.
Mar 1, 2011
What the Son of God Dreamt
The hours at the waterside
at the bottom of mountains
the foot of trees
at the back of crowds
settle into gravity
bodies sinking with the self
they're meant to carry.
Instead of empty silk waiting
for a bloom to flame
our bodies are hoarder's trunks
slowly covered in and becoming
debris from the dreaming tide.
Mar 14, 2011
at the bottom of mountains
the foot of trees
at the back of crowds
settle into gravity
bodies sinking with the self
they're meant to carry.
Instead of empty silk waiting
for a bloom to flame
our bodies are hoarder's trunks
slowly covered in and becoming
debris from the dreaming tide.
Mar 14, 2011
Smell Empties and Does Not Refill
That room smelled of tatami
and of boiled water.
my body emptied onto
the floor nightly
but hands lost,
their undersides had not flown with me.
and they could have kept me in place
when place was a hollowed landscape.
Mar 13, 2011
and of boiled water.
my body emptied onto
the floor nightly
but hands lost,
their undersides had not flown with me.
and they could have kept me in place
when place was a hollowed landscape.
Mar 13, 2011
Recalling the Dark There
Under trees
along the line of a hill
the shadows of the wood, of me, of God
bleed
Mar 5, 11
along the line of a hill
the shadows of the wood, of me, of God
bleed
Mar 5, 11
In My Own Image
I have always been bad at drawing trees
I start with a limb, long and lean
If the pen is fine it will find the grain
the ink runs thin for the edge of the page
The leaves I leave off, but imagine there -
silken hundreds sifting the air.
And this is how I draw you
weakly, as if it's you who's barely there.
2, 13, 11
I start with a limb, long and lean
If the pen is fine it will find the grain
the ink runs thin for the edge of the page
The leaves I leave off, but imagine there -
silken hundreds sifting the air.
And this is how I draw you
weakly, as if it's you who's barely there.
2, 13, 11
A Thorn Child
Thank you I am not
instead of Take what I am
the seed of me lances
deeper into your skin
protected from the fall
from the path you've softened
for me
Blistered in you
I pretend communion
without being
anything but another
way for God to suffer.
Feb 27, 11
instead of Take what I am
the seed of me lances
deeper into your skin
protected from the fall
from the path you've softened
for me
Blistered in you
I pretend communion
without being
anything but another
way for God to suffer.
Feb 27, 11
The Weight of Only Daily Bread
The daily bread
you offer cold
I've taken over and over until
I barely taste it
Heavy with pride
I'm unable to lift
your body to mine
and your thin blood
would run my veins dry
There's little to be said between us
The host comes poor
"I have been eager."
The guest comes full
"I have not."
So that the little
that you offer cold
remains bread not life.
2, 27, 11
you offer cold
I've taken over and over until
I barely taste it
Heavy with pride
I'm unable to lift
your body to mine
and your thin blood
would run my veins dry
There's little to be said between us
The host comes poor
"I have been eager."
The guest comes full
"I have not."
So that the little
that you offer cold
remains bread not life.
2, 27, 11
Another Poem for Bachelard
The spaces that invade
that fill and receive
their fill
that warm and chill
fine lines mapped already
down our necks and arms
the spaces that remain
and become less than
walls, more than memory
whittled to a window
filled with lamplight
2, 22, 11
that fill and receive
their fill
that warm and chill
fine lines mapped already
down our necks and arms
the spaces that remain
and become less than
walls, more than memory
whittled to a window
filled with lamplight
2, 22, 11
Ohio Turnpike
Ohio turnpike,
coiling as if to slide
me down your seashell ear
as if to hear my
confessions in a cloister
and finally taking what you can
from my many padded pockets
lower me down your throat
to see what can be made
of me there
the acoustics of my emptier heart
against yours.
2, 21, 11
coiling as if to slide
me down your seashell ear
as if to hear my
confessions in a cloister
and finally taking what you can
from my many padded pockets
lower me down your throat
to see what can be made
of me there
the acoustics of my emptier heart
against yours.
2, 21, 11
Lamp Bones
I shall see your bones ahead
as they light your way into the dark
I shall find them warmer than the skin
I shall see your bones
as lamps in a window
And I shall find them
under the moths that curtain it
Our bodies have never been important
our eyes wander in their wordsoaked dreams
preferring blind walks
perfecting still thoughts.
2, 21, 11
as they light your way into the dark
I shall find them warmer than the skin
I shall see your bones
as lamps in a window
And I shall find them
under the moths that curtain it
Our bodies have never been important
our eyes wander in their wordsoaked dreams
preferring blind walks
perfecting still thoughts.
2, 21, 11
Reverie
Never falling asleep
only waking in an ever other room
or behind again another curtain
as the woods break into a field
and a door opens on a hallway
with the same fears
the same days in nightly translations
2, 21, 11
only waking in an ever other room
or behind again another curtain
as the woods break into a field
and a door opens on a hallway
with the same fears
the same days in nightly translations
2, 21, 11
The Ninety-Nine
On my first try
I crossed the temple steps like water
and never sank
and never wondered
where my hundredth step might fall
Now starting at the start again
I've counted the risers too carefully
and found the hundredth missing
and sank before I asked to start
and wondered if they were all false
How can I make it up the temple steps again
now I've lost the memory to walk?
2, 20, 11
I crossed the temple steps like water
and never sank
and never wondered
where my hundredth step might fall
Now starting at the start again
I've counted the risers too carefully
and found the hundredth missing
and sank before I asked to start
and wondered if they were all false
How can I make it up the temple steps again
now I've lost the memory to walk?
2, 20, 11
The One Coming
I'm the one coming with the empty cage
peddling what I have left
as I go
I'm the one, come time for spring,
will be a shadow down the out of town road
I'm the one who charades
love to you, lacking fluency in any language
I'm the one not lost on you
and kept there when I've lost all else
I'm the one coming for you
coming for me
And I'll be the one leaving after all
taking your happy sad birds along.
Feb 18, 11
peddling what I have left
as I go
I'm the one, come time for spring,
will be a shadow down the out of town road
I'm the one who charades
love to you, lacking fluency in any language
I'm the one not lost on you
and kept there when I've lost all else
I'm the one coming for you
coming for me
And I'll be the one leaving after all
taking your happy sad birds along.
Feb 18, 11
Birds Have Returned
Birds have returned
pulling early sunrise sleds
and our ears before we're ready
Calling and recalling
this is it, you barely have to wait
and at their suggestion
our skin is already prickling in the might-be air
We're already back to our summer songs
we can already feel the sand in our hair
and the dirt in our hands
and the places we've not yet been
they all come invading our cold-hearted indoors
as soon as the birds have returned.
Feb 17, 11
pulling early sunrise sleds
and our ears before we're ready
Calling and recalling
this is it, you barely have to wait
and at their suggestion
our skin is already prickling in the might-be air
We're already back to our summer songs
we can already feel the sand in our hair
and the dirt in our hands
and the places we've not yet been
they all come invading our cold-hearted indoors
as soon as the birds have returned.
Feb 17, 11
Dog Ears
I am not kind
pages curl in on themselves
until the brittle margins
finally turn on the written word
and whether it holds your name or not
and whether it is typed or handwritten
these lines and everything in between
will be ground and left
in useless relation to one another
if I were, I would not fold in on you so.
feb 14, 2011
pages curl in on themselves
until the brittle margins
finally turn on the written word
and whether it holds your name or not
and whether it is typed or handwritten
these lines and everything in between
will be ground and left
in useless relation to one another
if I were, I would not fold in on you so.
feb 14, 2011
Exchanging Breath
What are you smelling on my breath?
the trust I rely on, a daily prescription
the solitude water I pour over leaves
of love of friendship of darkness walks
the stalks I chewed just checking
if they were anything I could use?
you smell where my days have been
and what is now inside contributing
do you smell the empty space on my tongue
reserved for the taste I have not found?
feb 13, 2011
the trust I rely on, a daily prescription
the solitude water I pour over leaves
of love of friendship of darkness walks
the stalks I chewed just checking
if they were anything I could use?
you smell where my days have been
and what is now inside contributing
do you smell the empty space on my tongue
reserved for the taste I have not found?
feb 13, 2011
One Night Long Morning
The boy was crossing the road, just that
at the foot of the exhilaration hill
just in view of the sliding glass door
just between the private trees
on the motorbike just given him
just for being a boy
The man was not awake
he had been at trying too long
the night long
and the world ached in his cheekbones
he rubbed the length of them
thought of his wife
and missed the part where she woke up
she was always awake
And from there afterwards
nobody could look at the road
but found themselves locking the sliding glass door
found the trees growing closer until they closed
The man found that
the part where his wife woke in the morning
or not, it did not matter
because he could no longer bear
to be awake to watch
Feb 10, 2011
at the foot of the exhilaration hill
just in view of the sliding glass door
just between the private trees
on the motorbike just given him
just for being a boy
The man was not awake
he had been at trying too long
the night long
and the world ached in his cheekbones
he rubbed the length of them
thought of his wife
and missed the part where she woke up
she was always awake
And from there afterwards
nobody could look at the road
but found themselves locking the sliding glass door
found the trees growing closer until they closed
The man found that
the part where his wife woke in the morning
or not, it did not matter
because he could no longer bear
to be awake to watch
Feb 10, 2011
Resin
The resin of this heartbeat
a glos heavier than the heart itself
the time is kept in long distances
that collapse inward
and rather than preserving the youngwood
this heartbeat draws out saps thought dead
leaving the heart hollower
and too hallowed to be kept company.
feb 10, 2011
a glos heavier than the heart itself
the time is kept in long distances
that collapse inward
and rather than preserving the youngwood
this heartbeat draws out saps thought dead
leaving the heart hollower
and too hallowed to be kept company.
feb 10, 2011
How To Read
Now you ask of me honesty
and where do I find it? I learned
how to read before the others
and I learned later
how to tell the details back
of unreal people and their lives,
of me and mine.
where can I find it? But in your
eyes, I'm looking before the others
that's how I learned to read
there will be something there worth
telling back to you and won't you
take it for me and mine
the details I lifted?'
Feb 10, 2011
and where do I find it? I learned
how to read before the others
and I learned later
how to tell the details back
of unreal people and their lives,
of me and mine.
where can I find it? But in your
eyes, I'm looking before the others
that's how I learned to read
there will be something there worth
telling back to you and won't you
take it for me and mine
the details I lifted?'
Feb 10, 2011
Hair Washing Night
recently she has not
washed out the days
with one night but lets settle
what sifts through the light
a sieve unreliable, too coarse
to catch the secrets flocking by
her hair begins to smell of it
and soon her skin
until without knowing why
someone wants to know how she's been
and she is
gone from the land of answering.
feb 8, 2011
washed out the days
with one night but lets settle
what sifts through the light
a sieve unreliable, too coarse
to catch the secrets flocking by
her hair begins to smell of it
and soon her skin
until without knowing why
someone wants to know how she's been
and she is
gone from the land of answering.
feb 8, 2011
The Shape I Take
I've found it finally
what it is of you
that takes of me
the baby lines of my face
and leftover birthmarks
blur into shadow of furniture
And when I notice, You know I do
I am caught on corners
the angles that cut out a face from midair
where there was nothing to know before
Your hairline goes this way
while your shoulderblade that
a chin is falling toward me
but the heel is turning back.
And why fall upon me,
holding up but
also giving up
the strength you've come for?
feb 8, 2011
what it is of you
that takes of me
the baby lines of my face
and leftover birthmarks
blur into shadow of furniture
And when I notice, You know I do
I am caught on corners
the angles that cut out a face from midair
where there was nothing to know before
Your hairline goes this way
while your shoulderblade that
a chin is falling toward me
but the heel is turning back.
And why fall upon me,
holding up but
also giving up
the strength you've come for?
feb 8, 2011
The Origins of Sight
An iris glowing sky
sprawls husked and separated
from its chaff the human eye
the center snuffed to ashes
In a field of atmosphere
our breath sends up its effort
but lifts us no where nearer
our origins of sight
feb 8, 2011
sprawls husked and separated
from its chaff the human eye
the center snuffed to ashes
In a field of atmosphere
our breath sends up its effort
but lifts us no where nearer
our origins of sight
feb 8, 2011
Jasmine Tea
The blue lotus flame is under the teapot
but the dawn is already steeping,
lighting its jasmine filaments
behind the penumbra of the earth
The water pours thickly,
slowly to the time of that dawn
holding its intentions back from the light.
Feb 1, 2011
but the dawn is already steeping,
lighting its jasmine filaments
behind the penumbra of the earth
The water pours thickly,
slowly to the time of that dawn
holding its intentions back from the light.
Feb 1, 2011
Before What's Coming
In the snow the train echo tunnels
or maybe it's what's coming
or maybe it's your inner ear
troubling you again.
In the leftover lamplight the whites
of dog eyes brighten wild
or maybe she smells what's coming
or maybe she's just a morning dog.
In the hours before what's coming
the neighbors catch themselves preparing
losing faith in their trundling trains
their city on its elevated track
sounds tragic in its tomorrow humming.
Feb 1, 2011
or maybe it's what's coming
or maybe it's your inner ear
troubling you again.
In the leftover lamplight the whites
of dog eyes brighten wild
or maybe she smells what's coming
or maybe she's just a morning dog.
In the hours before what's coming
the neighbors catch themselves preparing
losing faith in their trundling trains
their city on its elevated track
sounds tragic in its tomorrow humming.
Feb 1, 2011
i am
I need to lie down
prostrate the words and my ear
the ground the plane
I was measured and deemed upon
if your name can Be
now as always
withstanding modifiers
mine can match in
only response: I need to lie down
entirely spent
of effort, of claim
to the ground I bend
to the earth you lay
I ask and wait
this i am
this i am
jan 29, 2011
prostrate the words and my ear
the ground the plane
I was measured and deemed upon
if your name can Be
now as always
withstanding modifiers
mine can match in
only response: I need to lie down
entirely spent
of effort, of claim
to the ground I bend
to the earth you lay
I ask and wait
this i am
this i am
jan 29, 2011
Little Said
There's little to be said for winter
its winsome snow darkening away
as I long for it deeper,
its crowding in to share little
but taken breath taken signs of life,
its paring down to delicacies
hard cast ornament and hard won affections,
its difficult way of defining
only this only that
until there is only
this before me
all else apart,
My water in color dreams don't hold
fast in the ear
of this reticent rock.
jan 29, 2011
its winsome snow darkening away
as I long for it deeper,
its crowding in to share little
but taken breath taken signs of life,
its paring down to delicacies
hard cast ornament and hard won affections,
its difficult way of defining
only this only that
until there is only
this before me
all else apart,
My water in color dreams don't hold
fast in the ear
of this reticent rock.
jan 29, 2011
Posture
Is it coincidence
that an eye socket should fit into a knee?
Who ever heard of a self-conscious eye socket
but the one fitted there now
feels startled in its self shape.
It couldn't, never would, have known
itself as an indentation
without the supplemental bone,
the convex knee, to match it.
My eye socket should like to know more
it will go about fitting itself
to other protrusions to see.
jan 27, 2011
that an eye socket should fit into a knee?
Who ever heard of a self-conscious eye socket
but the one fitted there now
feels startled in its self shape.
It couldn't, never would, have known
itself as an indentation
without the supplemental bone,
the convex knee, to match it.
My eye socket should like to know more
it will go about fitting itself
to other protrusions to see.
jan 27, 2011
The Subtle Work of Eyebrows
There's hardly anything prettier than wet eyebrows
They do all the subtle work of a mouth
The curl of an L
The lift of two oo's
the land of the k
The two hover over At
and nestle under Me
Until the mouth
is a noise we no longer need.
jan 27, 2011
They do all the subtle work of a mouth
The curl of an L
The lift of two oo's
the land of the k
The two hover over At
and nestle under Me
Until the mouth
is a noise we no longer need.
jan 27, 2011
People's Ages
It is important to know people's ages
How else will I know when I will inherit your eyes
With the creases that frame
but don't cage them
and show up other places
like your smile.
jan 27, 2011
How else will I know when I will inherit your eyes
With the creases that frame
but don't cage them
and show up other places
like your smile.
jan 27, 2011
My Own Volition
of my own volition
whispered whiskey in the kitchen
I drank it in
I breathed it out
but under one condition that
a tree caught in a kite
is still a form of life
and wrestling with
or resting in
it doesn't covet flight.
jan 27, 2011
No Mother Arms
We have no mother arms
even if we found them powerless
long ago, they were for pretending
and now
they're not and we cannot even imagine
side by side with plenty of space in between
our arms hold nothing
not wanting to disappoint in the end.
Is all our honesty just this
helpless distance
the inability to hold one another
with a power that may or may not be ours.
Jan 16, 2011
even if we found them powerless
long ago, they were for pretending
and now
they're not and we cannot even imagine
side by side with plenty of space in between
our arms hold nothing
not wanting to disappoint in the end.
Is all our honesty just this
helpless distance
the inability to hold one another
with a power that may or may not be ours.
Jan 16, 2011
Over and Over My Shoulder
Over and over my shoulder
your puns and all knowledge of the world
go over
over and over my head
Your looks and seems and all rules
I find only looking over
over and over my shoulder
The chills of breaks in faith
I find all over
over and over my arms
Let's let sentence silence and all say
go, it'll go
over and over our shoulders.
jan 6, 2011
your puns and all knowledge of the world
go over
over and over my head
Your looks and seems and all rules
I find only looking over
over and over my shoulder
The chills of breaks in faith
I find all over
over and over my arms
Let's let sentence silence and all say
go, it'll go
over and over our shoulders.
jan 6, 2011
Manners
The shingles the shutters
and the floorboards hover
the chimney rocks and mantle lumber
the coffee table and couches rub together darker
where our heads go
where our heads land
when they roll when they drop
they head there
to that house in all manners
it is a house of trying to be
and was when it didn't imagine it.
jan 6, 2011
and the floorboards hover
the chimney rocks and mantle lumber
the coffee table and couches rub together darker
where our heads go
where our heads land
when they roll when they drop
they head there
to that house in all manners
it is a house of trying to be
and was when it didn't imagine it.
jan 6, 2011
Mad One
Is everyone a mad one
repeating it to mutters
wringing and refolding lines
repeating it to millions
to you, yourself, you, yourself
yes, you, what you already know
reconsidering, remembering, reciting
"it's truer than that it's truer than this
listen to me, I'm your mother
I'm your you"
Is everyone used to this stutter?
jan 6, 2011
repeating it to mutters
wringing and refolding lines
repeating it to millions
to you, yourself, you, yourself
yes, you, what you already know
reconsidering, remembering, reciting
"it's truer than that it's truer than this
listen to me, I'm your mother
I'm your you"
Is everyone used to this stutter?
jan 6, 2011
My, my
My, you use big signs
you close big eyes
but then we're not
looking and my, how
you shift them
under (as if) under cover
from one of us on and on
but my, it's easy to see here
flashing whites flashing blacks
what are you looking at
gently, what do you see
shifting my way shifting back.
jan 6, 2011
you close big eyes
but then we're not
looking and my, how
you shift them
under (as if) under cover
from one of us on and on
but my, it's easy to see here
flashing whites flashing blacks
what are you looking at
gently, what do you see
shifting my way shifting back.
jan 6, 2011
Alto
the hawks
the eddy arrows of flocks
the south
the road south
an alto
just like an alto
pulling down a thin melody
and gives it back
buoying it up
from its own undertow.
Dec 23, 2010
the eddy arrows of flocks
the south
the road south
an alto
just like an alto
pulling down a thin melody
and gives it back
buoying it up
from its own undertow.
Dec 23, 2010
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