March 3, 2017
Still and night wind/
And still standing in/ Deep in the shadow end/
Waiting in the wading pool To see my moon bounce to me some/
Wait! At the airport bar the atmosphere swooned bountiful/
Maybe sating metaphoring mating whoring fourth down plays/
Bountifully Enhanced Last Chancing that face it, basicly it’s too late not to dare/
Back here I’m not so rough, I swoon my own way, I tarry, and my moon’s enough
(photo credit/Jared French/ Clinton)
.mangata: reflection of the moon on the sea at night (Swedish)
February 28, 2017
She goes shy of the very shadows;
completely infused in first section hard-copy news,
She peruses column leads,
Refusing all too-sad reads.
Usually my views.
So sure you got some guy here who’s seriously shy
To fill skies with a gloom-jam just eye-jabbed in.
It can kill a guy.
But the goo you stand up against and
The two tons of blue mood you face
Too often. Too fierce to soften & go.
This man here could not just stand there,
She can’t relate
To the cinema I saw so late
She says they blur more black than white.
She says they end not..just not right.
February 8, 2017
January 4, 2017
Unless these kisses
Fortuitous but for the most part,
Stay imaginary, yet not useless,
Stay & not start.
I will wear Hope’s
& will not fear openly for the most part,
Right in defining light/ Right off the shadow
Where cooly I coddle our heart.
June 2, 2016
ok, i’m caught/ it’s way too early. it’s way too late/
i must share the draining straining steetlights/
they must only stretch a ways to chase shadows/
but that’s how it goes/
i must only street-clutch with garbage trucks/
the cops are parked deep in the darkest dead ends in cemeteries/
getting hand jobs from nobodies/
the stop & shop stopped selling beer but i bet they got the lottery/
down low my radio has mirAge jazz/
i’m wouldn’t resisting this wooden windchimes thing
May 25, 2016
“There’s a moment for everyone when you fall into your own shadow and the fact is that it’s your shadow and you’re forced to live in it. And this is nothing to celebrate or not celebrate. It simply is.” – Robert Rauschenberg
There is indignity this city
Shouldn’t see from me.
We wouldn’t want it continuing.
I’m advised to restrict public showing.
When sunrise is up
And 1st to say
It’s not good,
It should not
See the light of day.
Tonight though I say
When storm winds
Leaf shadows wild,
What might be imagined
Stands on stage,
And enacts out
There lain out
April 14, 2016
Characters cast into indecipherable scripts
All are strangers
To stare at, to starve for,
More, to promptly forget.
Live characters I’ve cared fiercely for
Live too far enough I know away in shadows
To re know/ to re love/ to re have
In this half life
February 24, 2016
Trouser Cuffs, turquoise moor muddy.
Shuddering shadow. He is soon just
A moonlit man. Trapped door
Was his “I’m not here” fuss.
Dry sob. & In a stall.
I marshal his resources for
All outdoors All
January 31, 2016
I could could guess you’re just near the end.
Tho’, You’re so dour
You don’t even stir at yr own humour,
Or don’t/can’t you comprehend?
When you nightly set out
Under yr mighty moon
To brighten and heat
Yr best features,
Yr long face goes on & on,
Though the shadows are gone
And when you face yr distant stare
It doesn’t stop
At dead stars
But goes to their backrow bleachers.
He’s aroused as the voices
In trees, on the breezes,
Distract him post haste w/ poetries,
They do extract his true face, those ghosts in a wind.
Mostly, They’ll lift him,
But their leverage runs thin.
December 28, 2015
Nights ago my big ole moon goes
right gauze-skirting inside a night cloud
Once I saw this, honestly,
It’s a black & white flicker
It’s a late, late, late show. It’s “The Letter”,
“I walked With A Zombie”, “The Third Man”,
Something is going on
Like under a magicians handkerchief
Something is gonna happen
We go darker into shadow
& It’s Eminent & Soon
If we should just catch & notice
god’s shiny icon in a gauze skirt
. (FROM YEARS AGO) (image: g.r.melvin)