#555. short story

January 30, 2013

he said, the first time i look into your eyes
i must know that these eyes
may also be the last eyes
i see before the gift
is given to me.
she asked, what gift?
death.
then may i hold your hand?

#548 mused

August 15, 2012

 

in the red dream
i see your heart flow
we hold on to each other
meet eyes across distances
much greater than ages or pain
pooling liquid salt water defeat death
daring to be father darling daughter to the spirit core

#534. tell me white wing

March 14, 2012

her thought down the river
is the way home lies
dark white caps
slap pilings
draw me
to her

as we descend into dream 
no cruelty will matter 
only clear eyes
and a dance
to hold us
together

tell me white wing 
where do you take me tonight?

#532. ten year

February 3, 2012

passing forward and behind the how and now
life brings the re-creation of childhood endorphins
along the entire length of the operant moment stringing
deep in a realsong of being in time with relativity and a music
memory the sweet infinity of colored icons humming beneath eyelids
i see the checkerboard
apron with strings untied
my mother with watchful eye
still young in this amazing dream
of life without her
 

#509. winter morning

December 20, 2011

i told you that i needed a poem
from underneath your skin
and dreamt of winter sparrows
in the palms of your hands
your glow piercing my amygdala
you undo all your buttons
illuminating the clear moment
i awake to spring answers

#497. tis the season

December 7, 2011

ran some errands today
endured the noise 
christmas crowds push
they seemed tired
this odd warm angry year
does not matter
walking through the door
when you smile up
at me and the dog runs up
for her belly rubs

#492. hypnogogic reveries

December 2, 2011

remembering

is not as much fun

as creating

a new moment

of laughter

i can see your dancing eyes

when i close mine

very nearly

leaping into dreaming

the fog of the day clears

finally i can think

through my eyelids

every time you call my name

i am awake 

#486. kick the can

November 26, 2011

calling me home
with the darkening dusk
and the endless street games
going on with the seductive voices 
of the other children ringing the seratonin 
bells of longing to belong in my traitor heart

fear bringing us all home to a silent dinner table
father mother and son and son and son 
in the house by a now dead cherry tree
we ate and became the family that i cannot find

anywhere in time the deep echo of my name 
still rolls down the block behind the houses
of neighbors up green suburban knolls
where the kids all wrestled as one 
in the coming night of life
calling me home

#485. ten

November 25, 2011

in the cycling
of days years grow
we that is us becomes 
momentum and the moment
as well as golden promises that shine
in a bright glimmering line between our eyes 
that was a corner we turned together before we knew
we could ever know that we could ever sing our strings together

#473. sailing home

May 29, 2011

battens
make hardware list
water on fire
teak oil
fun skies
practice heaving to
knots knots knots
telltales
crooked
broken dock pipes
needs six cleats
brother
walrus
needs to light
sailing home together

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