Thursday, October 27, 2016

1492/2016

to not know the things we don't know
unconscious unconsciousness
masquerading as politics
doubled down to blue to black to brown
place my money on lucky number 3
where
intent lingers unchecked unopen unremarkable
uncoupled ignorance masked naively as an unplowed field
goldenrod trodden
thistle tall and forgotten
overgrown mythology of our milky way
buried in the linen bones of neural falls
white blinding
haunting truths unveiled
soul's courage outlined in the palm of a hand
arrows shame precisely seeping into that fallow land
water with tears tendered from a million suns
seed, ponder rebirth
for what it's worth
and
the
glory of a planet yet to rise ....
one, to, buckle my shoe
cry for the many
unearth the dream 

Friday, October 21, 2016

of gloamings lean

Standing in the doorway
there
between the
kitchen and dining
room
looking at your
back
diligently washing whatever you were washing
Leaning in the
doorway
crossing arms as if suddenly
possessed by Virginia Woolf
leaning golden nectar dripping
"There's something inside the bone...the marrow
...and that's what you gotta get at."
dispassionate
intent upon discovery
the reason he
is not
you
No desire to connect his molecules
one
to
another
infinite
tender aching
flesh beneath fingers trembling with
need
(fuck need
and all its friends)
His back is not your back
and no amount of gin will change that
No desire to press against his back
slipping hands down
          down
down
to embrace
release
welcome home
anything
of earth and sea
no compass north pulling
             pulling
me to him
he is not you
his back not as regal
sanguine Apolo
his
eyes not seeing
me standing here
standing
regarding him
tolerating this quiet house
my invisibility
gin and juice
odds a thousand to one, two, unbuckle the moon
my head upon your chest once more
home to
earth to
sea...
pulling
leaning into
the doorway



Wednesday, October 19, 2016

shimmer

10:02
suddenly
just like
that
the light changes
and here in mid-October
it is April
things are soft
the sky is soft
green growing things stretch
tremble
yearn
yielding to warmth & airplanes
somewhere to the east
a dog barks
a wren pings the vastness
soft
no blue in the sky
the sun soft against the clouds
layered white upon gray upon white
only clouds
AH! Look there! a small patch of blue opening ...
opening
a perfect azure
trembling
yearning
yielding to sun
to this day
suddenly a yellow leaf falls
breaking the April spell
it is October
again
10:10
the softness remains ...



Halloween '62














Mad men
and
Welshman
Cigarettes
vodka gimlets
confident and breezy as a quarter to three martini
pendalton skirt zipped tight
cinched
snug
stockings & heels decidedly bold
traveling back

       then

back even further

on the tactile drag of my hand across an old burlap costume
closing eyes
smiling
and
finally
caught in the fiery presence of their fate & mirth
roll the dice & gather in your hands their smokey sacredness
but how I struggle
to recall their voice
timbre
tone . .
the slight clipped northern accent
and
the even-mellowed sexiness
of her
what I would give to sit amid their simple conversation
their jokes, their laughter
closing my eyes, i reach & reach & reach but can not catch it
voices hold magic like smell :
to transport, to sooth, to churn the energy of missing
fuel connection & friendship,
to sink us into another time
and
then
brightly!
to place us fully into the now & the knowing
fully wanting a voice to call us home
at dawn

Monday, October 10, 2016

anemometer

i open windows to hear the wind
as i become sunshine on a red bicycle
at the corner of
west cooper and monarch
it is October
leaves are dipped in gold-russet-beet-red
tomorrow never comes
if i can just hear the wind ,,,,
it is always today
that day
untethered autumnal smoothness
love does that
allows the wind to place you home
we are golden
in the timeless dust of eternal days
measured
by mercury
and cool pressure
caught upon a red bicycle
on the
corner
of west cooper
and
monarch



Thursday, October 6, 2016

harvest and the harrow


waning moon trails steps me to the proximity of you
black, gold, ivory fills my senses with presence & transport
expectation of haunting fragility solitary chilled Guinness excitement
sparkle & shine, sparkle & shine
up to the edge of the all that me oh my oh .....
rolling in craft & joyful song 

Suddenly

a strong sense of you catches me aware
"the way it will be"
worlds collide, words touch, walls tumble opening to the night
eyes close, rhythm, breathing deep arms surround me
The traveling ghost of you is firm behind me
we become
a gold rococo moment