Posted in Poetry on Jan 1st, 2002 No Comments »
A dog cries in strangled pleas
to darkened windows,
cars hush past on distant errands,
and a voice within chatters, endless.
Unaware, she breathes slow,
and I wonder if words exist
for the moments when we switch
from ruminate
to wander
and finally to unconscious,
and how to get there from here.
The refrigerator turns in its dreaming
to the sighing walls
where the gutter drips without [...]
Posted in Poetry on Jan 1st, 2002 No Comments »
The scales fell from our sight,
and the world about our ears,
and, in that brief moment,
we believed ourselves wise and severe.
Fumbling about for hope,
grasping at a crumbling dream,
blinking naked in the acrid air,
rage consumed our minds,
blood surged through our tears,
drying in the desert wind.
A film formed and grew opaque there,
and sweet blindness returned
and blunted the [...]
Posted in Poetry on Jan 1st, 2002 No Comments »
(for Tanya)
What color would he turn in the sun
if his skin was already angry ruby red
and his eyes a golden fire?
Would, with all the gaiety of summer’s swelter,
he leap from his watery bonds
and dance upon the stones,
tailfin for feet,
all the hues of the rainbow
blinding, glinting, winding
back through the clear, blue sky
to the source of [...]
Posted in Poetry on Jan 1st, 2002 No Comments »
Slowly breathe in,
filling your lungs with the salt sea air,
and breathe out again.
The petulant north wind
with icy fingers tousles your hair;
slowly breathe in.
Push your chin
deep into your thick wool sweater
and breathe out again.
Your eyes closing,
let the sand cradle your form there;
slowly breathe in.
Above the ocean’s din,
hear the gulls cry, joy and despair,
and breathe out [...]
Posted in Poetry on Jan 1st, 2002 No Comments »
Though we once hung by our knees
in the tree’s upper branches,
every thought visible on the night air,
we were standing
on the other’s cupped hands
and gasping in the fainting breeze.
Mirage of stone and leaves,
rid yourself of that chrysalis
and its cage of fantasies.
Friend, you were never really there.
Though we once dreamt of lands
where our hands could weave
every [...]
Posted in Poetry on Jan 1st, 2002 No Comments »
He lives his life
in the spaces between obligation
Like the flashes of light
on the cels of a motion picture.
His footsteps are the fall of leaves to the pavement,
whispering and sometimes a clap.
He sees a woman
crossing and uncrossing her arms,
straightening,
Unsure of whether she is
in front of
or behind
the table.
A glove suspended
in the spaces between the branches
Like the [...]