Sunday, October 08, 2006

Collage.


Blue birds startle
And wrack the fields
Of swaying voices.
Great swathes of air
Blowing up into the sky:
Morning.

11/03/02


Here's to the foolish man
That looks to dry memories
And mementos
While the warmth of those
Who love him
Cools for waiting

11 September 2003

The flutter of autumn leaves
And women that sweep by
Leaving an enigmatic whiff of scent
And a half a conversation
With someone else.

2/17/01

Laxmi the Vanquisher!
All your warriors lay their burnished swords at your feet
Hoping to catch the reflection of your smile and thereby kill
More enemies!
But I, unready,
Caught the electric glory of those little pearls in the glow of ultra-violet
When you smiled beside my chest
And I squeezed your delicate hand.

2001

One lost moment is enough to make me cry.
And yet we throw away
Whole hours, un-wrapped from
Each others arms.
Wondering why fate threw us together in this
Too short life to totter between each other's
torment and salvation.

2001

A poem for today.

I am thankful for another day
Yet it seems that it is another day closer to dreaming.
Coker flew to Freetown today, winging her way across the blue while I paddled my dugout canoe in the cool water of the Back Bay in Portland, Maine.
Could anything define us more radically?


8/14/02

You are so unlucky!
We are both in the wrong place
At the wrong time.
Any other time and we would have
Become lovers and used
my sperm and your eggs
like brush and palette
In the making of a love child
One who could emerge from my thoughtfulness
With your irresistible giggles.
Yes. in some other universe that
Fire blocks from us like astronauts in space,
I am in you, enraptured,
And kicking myself for
Loving someone so faithless
And so pink!
I am not sure what the
Inevitabilities are in life
But we seem so much like one.

I suffer your has-beens and
The cracked and soggy patches
on your soul.
I drain or water
As you show me your need.
And for me I guess you need to
Be-a-bitch
So that I can stop waking up each
Day more naive than the day before

Eros.

Silly Eros!
Always forget to put labels
On your diskettes, don't you?
Then poor buggers like me
End up worshipping toes or
Odd corners of bodies
We're hardly supposed to look at
Start getting my desires tangled in wrinkles
Or neat shoals of dark hair
Swimming up a spine
Or forearm
With the same determination.
As sperm.
Oh you leave too much for celebration!
I could lie for hours
watching these little hairs swirl
against your dusky skin
Their pink-edged pores
Stretched like Cadillacs;
Watch them wheel and turn like
Small fry in the tidal pools of
Summer

28 May 2004

I am at sea
with nothing left
to hold on to but this flotsam
of youthful longings and their
nostalgic regrets
Help I'm drowning
and that's it
the end
anyway, what
help do I deserve?

2004

I am no longer certain of my connection to the earth. Rock cliffs, screes, and trees in the crisp morning air of New England. Those places I would never be buried, I now don't know or don't care- I just feel the crumbly edge of the cliff-face, smell the chalkiness, and sense the blue sky.



2/17/01

So much heat engendered by so small a flame,
Thrown into the volatility of my loneliness.
quick like lighter fluid, and as uncontrollable
Flowing down between every crack
And burning with that blue that sees
So cool and yet consumes no less than
The blinding red I cant suppress.
Am I shouting against myself?
And if I don't know, then why
Should i expect my 5 year old
To know?
That is the pathos of where I am.

Summer 02