#402. another why

October 6, 2010

the way you laugh
in pure unguarded concentration
eyes shining stars
liquid music for your thirsty lover

a small thing
but beyond value

#398. afterglow

October 2, 2010

it is the evidence
now welling up
in your eyes

feeling the words
as emotion
you cry

thank you

#365. zeroing in

August 25, 2010

a vast world has opened words
out past time passing
by timeless words
or more
than

words lead past vast
worlds of time
passing
more
less
or

been a rough saturday for folks
enjoying a day in the city
tempers flare as the train rolls
cool as tickets are punched
good young conductor knows
his stuff woodside next gets us
all under way to queens
jamaica night air puff
and a change sitting
higher now as the points
sound under the car lulls
most to sleep i pop a redstripe
tallboy on the way to babylon
marley comes on pandora barely
random as the dreamers trainsong
dreams roll parallel tracks over
diagonal streets as the sea scent
of bayshore gusts in the open
door old villages ensphered
by decaying suburbia blending
past sayville patchogue on
to something approaching the wild
groans of the uneasy dozer
behind me where imagination
allows a view my window
cant reflect on tomorrows rest
a piano melodically crashing
thru the pine barrens out
beyond mastic beach station
i hear the girls harmonizing
waiting for me to arrive in a few
guess the doze got me too
no matter because the quiet
comes on rolling beautiful past
invisible as i finish my beer
with a gentle rustle of paper bag
speonk is shed with fragrant air
filling the remaining travelers who
eye the promising deep and dark
excitement blowing thru west hampton
the hampton bays next to build up
my happiness for south hampton
and the warm north sea house
and everyone that means
the train can finish its route
without me

confused
by the new lush
growth
in the old wild
places

the reeds are very tall
and they almost hide the sea

aromatic
herbs from your small
gardens
comfort the weary
dreamer

the words dont come quickly
and in your home they dont need to

#256. poetry

May 8, 2010

understanding
that burdens
are beauty
more poignant
than daffodils
and that truth
matters as much
as breath

then the words must flower
and flow

beauty is crying
bleeding birds
because of the words laughing
desperate diamonds
art shouting
empathic eons
imagination embracing
cloudy children
passion singing
low laughs
tenderness understanding
mad mountains
of an artist
reaching alone and across
death before my birth

without truth
there are only bells
stuffed with dead rain

#222. wriddle

April 4, 2010

wasted
words have
written themselves and
why not
wrestle
with them
within the Endless

#39. Between

October 4, 2009

Between
Inhaling and exhaling
there is a particular scene
and a unique music
that runs behind my eyes
and walks across the other
senses of my conciousness
firing the vessel that holds
the words I need.
When I hear it and experience
the heat
I overflow onto whatever page
is at hand.
Color in the dark.

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