the old year spirals
down like sea gull feathers
drifting drifting
through canal waters
back to the ocean
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Love Harvest
doesn't she realize
that i am not like an apple tree
in the orchard,
where the picker
can come as often as she wants?
that i am not like an apple tree
in the orchard,
where the picker
can come as often as she wants?
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Eleventh Hour
moonlight stripes
through december blinds
I can see
new year's day waiting
in january's wings
through december blinds
I can see
new year's day waiting
in january's wings
Silk Thread
oftentimes
when i meditate,
a thread of high-pitched sound,
an eternal vibration that resides
deep inside my brain,
overcomes my thoughts,
eradicating the white noise of passing
cars, crows, and wind-
a primal whisper of hunger and anxious love.
psychologists say
the buzz insided my skull
is the squeal of my nervous system
a silk thread that stretches
back to the liquid night before my birth.
but as i transcend the universe,
i know the single-string song has a far
greater meaning.
every day
like a spider in the corner of a room,
i spin a web of love
and with the same sacred material
try to snare the only creature
that can bring meaning to my life.
when i meditate,
a thread of high-pitched sound,
an eternal vibration that resides
deep inside my brain,
overcomes my thoughts,
eradicating the white noise of passing
cars, crows, and wind-
a primal whisper of hunger and anxious love.
psychologists say
the buzz insided my skull
is the squeal of my nervous system
a silk thread that stretches
back to the liquid night before my birth.
but as i transcend the universe,
i know the single-string song has a far
greater meaning.
every day
like a spider in the corner of a room,
i spin a web of love
and with the same sacred material
try to snare the only creature
that can bring meaning to my life.
Love Nest
in winter, we'll cuddle
on a plush bed with thick pillows.
we'll be comfortable;
a nest of mad kisses
lying in each fold.
you'll close your eyes, so as not
to see our flaming shadows
wildly gesticulating;
those meddling dancers, a troupe
of black demons and coyotes.
then you'll feel your cheek scratched-
a tiny kiss, like a spider, will run around your neck-
bowing your head, you'll whisper,
"find it!" and i'll take a long time
pursuing that elusive creature
on a plush bed with thick pillows.
we'll be comfortable;
a nest of mad kisses
lying in each fold.
you'll close your eyes, so as not
to see our flaming shadows
wildly gesticulating;
those meddling dancers, a troupe
of black demons and coyotes.
then you'll feel your cheek scratched-
a tiny kiss, like a spider, will run around your neck-
bowing your head, you'll whisper,
"find it!" and i'll take a long time
pursuing that elusive creature
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Hopeless
you make mention of some scummy gem
of "poetry" i puked or sang or scrawled-
of how its lines dripped heavy with a note
of affection not often found, a dream
undreamed almost forever. now i seem
here to myself, listening to my rattle brain,
a brute whose eyes grow purplish, bulge, and bloat-
whose mind spits gobby gluts of yellowish phlegm.
and now one part of me that will not die
goes wild, and screams, "love, love, love"
and bashes its head raw against the sky-
another is drowning in a lake of desire.
love! both parts of me raising hell- and hopeless, i
behold them with my pen ensnared in mud.
of "poetry" i puked or sang or scrawled-
of how its lines dripped heavy with a note
of affection not often found, a dream
undreamed almost forever. now i seem
here to myself, listening to my rattle brain,
a brute whose eyes grow purplish, bulge, and bloat-
whose mind spits gobby gluts of yellowish phlegm.
and now one part of me that will not die
goes wild, and screams, "love, love, love"
and bashes its head raw against the sky-
another is drowning in a lake of desire.
love! both parts of me raising hell- and hopeless, i
behold them with my pen ensnared in mud.
Morpheus's Spell
i wish you'd kiss me
the moment you escape
morpheus's spell
i want to taste
your dreams
the moment you escape
morpheus's spell
i want to taste
your dreams
Stained Glass Window
how beautiful she
reposed on blissful breezes
glittering angel
her light drips through rib shutters
radiance spatt'ring my heart
reposed on blissful breezes
glittering angel
her light drips through rib shutters
radiance spatt'ring my heart
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Midday Blues
sunrise hope fading
the day's ocean tempest tossed
in a heavy mist
my soul yearns for us to share
morning's embrace once again
the day's ocean tempest tossed
in a heavy mist
my soul yearns for us to share
morning's embrace once again
The Joy O' Giving
moon's glow, intensified ten fold,
burns fierce by coronal limbs-
transcending insulated space-
encompassing earth ahead of the scorching sear;
and i a-bed
watching the mounting conflagration,
cling to my pulse and pillow.
the room grows hot;
the moon multiplies her brimstone blaze;
excitement stretches before the sizzling sheen;
purple flames pierce my clenched eyelids-
my smoldering senses, rising to face the risk,
with one wondrous work
restoring her to natural light.
burns fierce by coronal limbs-
transcending insulated space-
encompassing earth ahead of the scorching sear;
and i a-bed
watching the mounting conflagration,
cling to my pulse and pillow.
the room grows hot;
the moon multiplies her brimstone blaze;
excitement stretches before the sizzling sheen;
purple flames pierce my clenched eyelids-
my smoldering senses, rising to face the risk,
with one wondrous work
restoring her to natural light.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Tree of Love
it starts with a mumbling in the roots,
then it begins to smell verdant.
it slides up thin cords inside the trunk
and outside, rising through grooves in the bark into the branches;
the flawless placement of leaves,
spraying rainbows into the sunlight.
most of the time this is wasted on us.
the tree performs this miracle
while we proceed in numbness throughout our day.
but when we experience it to perfection,
a distant rhythmic combining of cells,
it is what keeps us alive and well.
then it begins to smell verdant.
it slides up thin cords inside the trunk
and outside, rising through grooves in the bark into the branches;
the flawless placement of leaves,
spraying rainbows into the sunlight.
most of the time this is wasted on us.
the tree performs this miracle
while we proceed in numbness throughout our day.
but when we experience it to perfection,
a distant rhythmic combining of cells,
it is what keeps us alive and well.
Cobwebs
december morning
rewriting poems of you
vivid memories
love in other times, places
cling to my mind like cobwebs
rewriting poems of you
vivid memories
love in other times, places
cling to my mind like cobwebs
Monday, December 21, 2009
Bliss
i wish i could open a door
and invite my soulmate inside my mind
so that she could see how fully i love her.
after all these years with her,
my adoration only becomes stronger
every morning, when i look at her.
i watch her pee sometimes
and i actually sigh with joy
because i won her, somehow.
happily, gleefully would i live
in dire poverty with her, if it meant
we got to live to each be one hundred years old.
the next morning a tree could fall on top
of our cardboard box and crush us
both to death at the same instant. bliss.
and invite my soulmate inside my mind
so that she could see how fully i love her.
after all these years with her,
my adoration only becomes stronger
every morning, when i look at her.
i watch her pee sometimes
and i actually sigh with joy
because i won her, somehow.
happily, gleefully would i live
in dire poverty with her, if it meant
we got to live to each be one hundred years old.
the next morning a tree could fall on top
of our cardboard box and crush us
both to death at the same instant. bliss.
My Caged Bird Sings
contemplating you
beauty past comprehension
a tiny finch sings
lyrics floating t'ward heaven
from the cage of my ribs
beauty past comprehension
a tiny finch sings
lyrics floating t'ward heaven
from the cage of my ribs
Tidal Surge
my soul aches
since cross words tempest tossed love's
pacific ocean
still damp from the surging tide
sand dries seaward from the edge
since cross words tempest tossed love's
pacific ocean
still damp from the surging tide
sand dries seaward from the edge
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Denim Caress
i went to gettysburg
to eat onion soup
and watch
my soulmate walk.
she wore jeans,
her exposed pockets
sensual, gold-stitched hands
caressing heaven.
with each step
i bowed my mind
and prayed my imagination
would blow away the denim clouds.
for me,
fantasy is
a devout way of life
my spiritual practice
to eat onion soup
and watch
my soulmate walk.
she wore jeans,
her exposed pockets
sensual, gold-stitched hands
caressing heaven.
with each step
i bowed my mind
and prayed my imagination
would blow away the denim clouds.
for me,
fantasy is
a devout way of life
my spiritual practice
Loom
our love is the loom
on which the threads of our lives-
woven together,
i over you over me-
become a single fabric
on which the threads of our lives-
woven together,
i over you over me-
become a single fabric
The Voice of Love
the voice of love-
a sound breaking through
unimaginal silence-
transcends sublunary distinctions,
unearthly music unfolding like petals,
soaring up
through the great rose window of my soul
toward the pleiades,
the mezzanine of jasper and topaz and amethyst;
a muezzin's voice,
a poet's voice,
a choirboy's voice before it has changed-
ghostly, virginal, remote,
cool as a spring of living water.
a sound breaking through
unimaginal silence-
transcends sublunary distinctions,
unearthly music unfolding like petals,
soaring up
through the great rose window of my soul
toward the pleiades,
the mezzanine of jasper and topaz and amethyst;
a muezzin's voice,
a poet's voice,
a choirboy's voice before it has changed-
ghostly, virginal, remote,
cool as a spring of living water.
EKG
every day i take
my love pressure, monitor
soul palpitations
produce periodic
printouts- poetic profiles
sent to update her
on my condition,
squiggles of love revealing
my heart on my sleeve
my love pressure, monitor
soul palpitations
produce periodic
printouts- poetic profiles
sent to update her
on my condition,
squiggles of love revealing
my heart on my sleeve
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