July 15, 2016
It’s pitchblack and a pigeon
or a dove
Sits on this dashboard
in this car.
It looked enough like those stuffed
things people love.
I was thinking nothing of it
When it swelled full, far enough
For it to suggest to me,
Her filling full breast told me this…
Her pulling my eyes to her,
Boldly, for both of us.
Oddly, the thing was fiery in this dark.
Wings, fiercely & stark.
They Open, then HeaveOut one open hole.
Gone, she would leave one mark here
On this darkback soul
June 26, 2016
I can’t have us cave
On our manifesting many..
The best of the rest of our fantasies
That fasten us.
We’ll see to them, intensely,
We’ll fix our gazes.
Then, we can begin to address thee..
To shush serious nights and days.
Then, we can enact, enable
One free & tender contentedness.
May 1, 2016
An apple, itself ready for it’s fall
Rolled towards him.
Looking up from his hands,
his distresses, in his Rousseau Tableau;
Big leaves, big cats, even lions;
Staged around his hazy distresses.
Clearly and neat, his sweet fruit…
His way for his fall up.
. (FROM 2009)
IMAGE FROM ANDREW WYETH
October 13, 2012
When honestly watched,
Starts in intention.
When looked at, no nonsense,
Before it cums sneezing out,
When all one world, as it appears,
By half hard facts
& a ton of impressions
To meagerly manipulate
A clay reclaimed
October 10, 2012
“It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet people die miserably every day for lack of what is found there” –William Carlos Williams, poet
Aw heck, on a lark,
I likely heard a “Hark,
Hear all this beck and call”.
There, I see it had hailed from icy altitudes.
So, when I wised up some, and tried to listen,
At this end, I waited, and while I waited, I understood.
It wasn’t the explanation,
It was the going on & on deal,
It was setting the table, not the meal.
October 1, 2012
I’ll give a knowing nod
To the brother inside the IPod
“I rub my wounds with alcohol”
I love the sound of fuck all
I feel everything but small
Enraptured under big moony skies
Where prayers stand a chance,
Where joy awakens eyes,
Guts are calm, but hearts beat restless
& Dance as there’s a man and moon romance.
September 28, 2012
.I hate that
It came out not right
Translating with all my might
I misspoke.. you mistook…
I’d cracked a crooked smile, not smirk
I’d factored in the farcical
Nature of nature.
It’s that it’s sad that
Few hymns from pews will praise
Sad, we’re not force-fed all the fanciful
Nature of nature.
September 17, 2012
I could, by unbinding, ease up by inches
I just could cease finding my itches
Intolerable, and irremediable
It could be that by trying
To untangle, to untie lines and
That not only the knotted, like burls in an oak,
But all that nestles, like the nettles across my chest ache
I could, unbinding, unbuckle, unshackle some,
I could go.
September 16, 2012
If I wanted more vague distraction
That wouldn’t be a map
That I threw into our convertible
Onto yr adorable lap
With a compass
And all those stars
When the company you keep
Must need to finally get a bead on, and stay
The course of his only way
September 15, 2012
Some souls surely cry
“..If it wasn’t for the bad luck..”
Break for a deepbreathe breathy sigh,
“..I’d have no luck at all.”
Look, My luck is neutral.
It lies like algae
On secluded moon moody ponds.
It doesn’t flow, or creep. I fell
FadeToBlack asleep on a chair;
My book & pen, and nearly me, there
On to the floor.
Alone, on knee, bent,
I’d known I loved rehoarding
My words, and alphabets–
They’d shifted some, and had come
To a new sense.
Would it likely be by odd luck?
Or meant as, also likely,