Reeling

My heart is reeling: an attempt to propel time backwards-- with the hope that love might reverse itself not into scorn, but to that placid moment before conception. 11-7-09

Orpheus Acsending

When weary sun grew heavy, sank deep into the Earth, I stole away in secret from chilled and ashen hearth; from morning glory folded amidst the faery rings to hear forbidden melodies-- Orpheus tuning strings:          The first was for the flaming red          setting in sunflower hewn,          the patience of the oaken boughs,          and one for the curve of the moon.          The honey in a lover's kiss          for all it may be worth,          stillness of a morning cloud,          the phoenix in rebirth. What more to wish but for the day he'll laugh and take my hands, but I'll be picking cardamom along these sifting sands 'til Venus finds another house and Orpheus will rise and look into the crimson dawn with clear and dewy eyes; that he might spy me drifting past and know it all along, that he may have arranged the notes, but I was in the song. 11-11-09

Skin

My darling is a hide pulled tightly across her bone frame-- fragile and still. A hollow beat faltering under the greed of invisible people. 3-22-09

There are words that feel good to say
So That I Can Play My Guitar

The image is imperative
So that I can play my guitar

You don’t know me, but I can still see you
So that I can play my guitar

Blessed you if you can repair yourself
So that I can play my guitar

The wind is colder then their bodies
So that I can play my guitar

I jealous of your reality, your taste, your world
So that I can play my guitar

And with your genitals
And the tangible

My guitar Blue Bright Shock
My guitar Tree sap vein
My guitar Naked White Light

Contempt

You spoke words
against me,
and not for my ears;
nurturing a silent,
tasteless poison
thriving in our negative space.
And I do not know
if it will ever find shape
or only continue
to eat at my imperfections
until I am
something less than bone.

3-8-09

Salt

Dive off the salted rim of a galleon
to tangle yourself within crested waves
that trap you
and bear you forth
at the same time;
moments that make all spaces
equal to a heartbreak
and its cure
is alive in bending water-
the drunken enclosure
of Earth's womb.

8-31-08

Grey Hair

Out of the old penny copper
of my brown hair,
a brushstroke of silver starlight
shimmering from my temples--
the proud badge of years rehearsed:
twinkling faintly in the morning light,
and placed just where my mother has hers.
Truly, in one new and unlined,
must be the sign of a virtuoso;
or perhaps time was lost
in those late nights
twirling among moonbeams.

12-1-08

One Hard Thing...

Seeing with a child's eyes
unlocks years
of dormant wisdom--
ripened for picking.
It is left
for those enormously brave
to taste
the bittersweet elder kernels
and face the world
through a glass of honesty.

1-7-09