Mystery Sea
Words are but the crest of the wave—
It’s in the tide the secrets ride—
Mystery sea, whispering me,
Letters splatter the sand with foam;
Enscribed until the tide slides home.
Castles, Caves and Graves
Scooping sandfull
memories ashore
For castles, caves
and graves to explore
As relentlessly the
sea tugs at the crags with a jagged hand
The Wounded Horse
You are a wounded
horse
On the edge of an
abyss.
The holes your
hooves enlarge
Galloping so
frantically after intangibles
Leave not much of
You left.
I pray for you
Though I have no
religion
And hope for you
Though I possess no
decision.
Your choices of
smoke
Are quickly
becoming
An icicle cloak
Behind which
freezes
The blood
No longer running.
I pray for you
Though I have no
reason
But that something
Has brought us
together
For a season.
And somehow the
waves
You make as you
move
Create in my spirit
A permanent groove.
We are both in
danger.
When it Comes to Love
When it comes to love
You know it’s right
If she ends up
With you at night
When it comes to love
It’s meant to be
If you’re together, for even a moment
In all this possibility
When it comes to love
It can only be new
After you release all the strings
Tied inside you
When it comes to love
It can only go on
It can only go on
If the song you sing
Is continually strong
When it comes to love
It can only exist
When the wish to be loved is less
Than the wish to kiss
The Gift of Softness
It is our very
softness
Granting the gifts
That eventually
destroy us-
An immortality of
stone
We’ve traded
For the intensity
of a candle-
The limbs of trees
Never bleed
But they cannot
handle
The running motion
or feel
The smoothing touch
of rivers
The backs of rocks
Do not age or
suffer
But neither do they
weep
Nor sing of the
endless time
They witness
Song to the Ocean
I love the ocean
Like I would a person
And feel love in return
So sing a long, living poem
Against the backdrop of our yearnings,
Of the pull toward each end
Of sunset and sunrise—
Of powerful leavings
And endless recurrence—
I have a need to revisit
Every year
As if only at the sea
Can I cry
This specific tear
And every time
We see each other again
It is the reunion of old friend
To friend
Always I receive
Upon the wings of waves
Some new inspiration
To release and remember.
The ocean works on principles
Of intuition and time,
Rewriting the shores
With natural instinct,
One everchanging line,
Each wave the product of thought
Of an immensely blue unrolling mind
Its poetry is tide to music
Because there is a melody of meanings
From the birds whirling
Over its depths
To the balconies swaying
In sunken sunlight
Where fish wing the turbulent sea
To people, standing and listening
For hints of words
In the whispers
Of a million small collisions
A piece of the poem
Is given to me
And I, fished in its net,
Swim the turning space
Until I am wet
With understanding
Of each new outstretched wave
As a simultaneous inner space
No other power I’ve encountered
Pushes with such certainty
To ensure that always my mind
Becomes one with the mind of the sea
And I am driven always
A little mad
With wild feeling
Of what can be
Yet all the while sensing
That somewhere deep
In all this potentiality
There sleeps
A whole unfluxing
Eternity
For No Good Reason
Depression isn’t so bad, for all clouds finally float away.
Happiness isn’t so great; fairly soon it dissipates.
Pain is unavoidable, though we imperceptibly learn to slough
off the changes with grace.
Pleasure is pointless to pursue, for always it is fastened
to an unattainable end.
Up goes, down goes, middle goes,
The birds fly away from away.
Even the going will soon be gone.
So, for no good reason, I
Wrote this song.
Capitol Park
I. Entrance
You pass a million souls
And no one knows
The worlds you suffer
So the struggle
To meet their eyes
Passes on
You feel
They haven’t felt it
And so the unintended touch
Of their fingers
Still lingers
II. Bench Laments
A.
You try hard sometimes
Not to write
Because
There’s no point
And yet she looks
At you
With eyes ready
For a dream
Or joint
B.
You try to forgive yourself
Because it’s not quite
Getting dark
And yet the shadows are leaning
Ten times long
In Capitol
Park
III. Shade Adding to
Shade
A.
Because I am riven
By a melancholy
That won’t die
Because the birds above
Fly through nothing less
Than the suns
Inside my eye
B.
Because everything breathes
And the breath
Doesn’t have a home
For all of these beatings
I write this poem
Because I have no way else
In the moment to tell
The minutes of heaven
I glisten in hell
C.
Because I posses
No rules for the game
That keep us apart
In all ways the same
Because you share a moment
And yet alone
For all of these
I write this poem
D.
Because your sadness
Leaks on me
Because the happiness
Breeds jealousy
Because our tears
Are dropping stone
On stone
For all of these
I write this poem
IV. Ishmael
Bar Song
A.
Get me drunk and I’ll whale
Until it’s white away,
All the while feeling
Culmination
Of waves I won’t say
Day after day
After day
After
Day
B.
Song doesn’t end
So when did I start
Coining collections of words
To cash in
These moments of heart
Remembering a reality
That can’t be seen
Perceiving the repetitious
Rhythms of this dream
V. Girl Asks What I’m Writing
A.
To expel cough medicine
So I drank it
“Yet random wizardry
Expresses positive
What-Is-Ness”
And so I say
Nothing
Because it’s the only
Song to sing
B.
That flower seems so unreal
Afar in bar light
And yet lives
Because I have not
The heart to doubt it
VI. Conversation Rewired
“The town of Nowhere
Is a good place to get lost;
I know, because I can
Barely remember the day
I tried to get across.”
VII. Seeing Past the Mirror
Words catch upon words
Like nicks scratch
From the inside of bricks
And soon as I listen
There’s too much to hear
Can you imagine
All the rainbows
That prism
An infant’s ear?
No More Words
No more timeless nights
No more special regard
No more confessionals shared
No more sentences served
No more words, no more words
No more laughter harmonized
To the music cruising between our heads
No more melting into the delicate sounds
Of each other’s bodies in bed
No more softness, no more the heaven
Each of us so dearly deserved
No more words, no more words
No more knowing the light
In your window is on for me,
No more double dates with our fantasies
No more slow dancing beneath the sheets
No more poetry where I could cry freely
And finally feel fully heard
No more words, no more words
Remember you said it isn’t all bad-
I know in time so will I
But right now its all rockdrops in time
And pain making love
To memories in the rain
With an anger that twists me
Into a fist so quietly shaking
From fury so burning
Even in screams it’s barely heard
Like everything I’ll be missing
Beneath the triviality
Of no more words, no more words
I Drink Sometimes
I drink sometimes
For different reasons
Every day
Sometimes the fun
Of stumbling on a run
And sometimes to bleed
The streets of gray
Sometimes keep
My hands from the shakes
Or write a swing
That steadily breaks
Ghost chains from the world
Sometimes to sing
And sometimes cry
Or close eyes’ inner distance
Toward cloth lullaby
Sometimes to believe
And sometimes doubt
A shattered dream
In a broken shout
Sometimes drink
Just to say “I’m drinkin’”
Or knock out a way
To break my thinking
Ticking against the way
We all live and die-
Sometimes for the fact that
It’s all a lie-
Sometimes drunk
To believe it’s true,
Swallow stray brains
And sometimes feel
Reel
In the swarm
Sometimes drink
To feel allways warm
And slowly despise
The evil eyes
Glancing down upon me
Sometimes drink
Like a hopeless Nazi
Obeying orders
He never understood
How he learned
And sometimes I drink
Just to watch
Myself and the world
More unmistakably
Burn
Anyplace But
There were days, yes
When all I wanted was more so
I could have less of
Everything troubling me when
Reality was too loudly at my door when enough
Overcoats could not be thrown over
The bed I had to lie in when secrets
Were the secret of my disease I
Would not see yes
There were days that took everything just
To keep a standstill when
All my strength was spent so carefully
Not turning my head when
A neverending rain of bullets went
To sleep with me constantly when
I would do anything try
Anything be anything buy anything
Go anywhere anywhere anywhere
Any place but in
Inevitably Fire
We are, all of us,
moths
Drawn to flame—
The proof of this
Is the basic fact
of birth—
Some of us are
afraid of the light
Or try to ignore it
And some so drawn
We go right for it
But whichever case,
the destiny is the same: flame
And so, if the
answer is inevitably fire in the end,
Fire that draws us
Like planets to the
sun and in,
Fire that compels
us to rise
From our ashes ever
again,
Fire that we
communicate
With the intensity
of wind,
Perhaps it is unfair
To call either foe
or friend
Since it neither
discriminates
Nor lets us win
Rather, true to its
nature,
It strips us of all
possessions
As we are torn
asunder
And yet with such a
beauty
We give ourselves
to it with wonder
Even Then
Talking in poetry
Sounds like a good
idea
On paper
But just try it
sometime
You’ll be lucky to
finish
Two verses.
People really
Don’t want to hear
it
No one is ready for
it
It’s too much, way
Too much
And they’ll punish
you
For it, one way
Or another, even
Worse when
It’s true
Even onstage
It’s only acceptable
When there’s been
Forewarning
Of some sort,
A sign or song,
At the very least
A preliminary
scream-
Even then, not
Too much-
And even then,
they’ll
Punish you
And even then, I
wasn’t
Ready
Inside the Flickering Fires
Another
unrepeatable day
Is exhausting its
flames,
Another night is
opening
Thoroughly dark
eyes
You would think the
accumulation of time
Would finally
become so great
Its weight would
collapse into itself
But the only place
Static is gathering
Is in our ideas
Nothing has really
touched anything
Or gone so deeply
There is no place
left not all
Of the same wound
In any event time
Has to follow
itself through
Because it started
I’m not sure if so
long ago
We didn’t all vote
on the matter,
Not realizing then
how far
Forever can
stretch,
How easy it is
Over centuries,
millenia
To forget
But never
completely, for nothing can
Ever touch us that
deeply, can
Ever entirely erase
the face
Inside the flickering fires
Inside the flickering fires
Of the changing
days
My Muse
My muse
is a light
calling
with bright silence
a wind
forever about to blow
a chance
waiting
to be taken
a dream of
awakening
we are asleep to
a truth
voice
we usually ignore
as
long
as we
can
something
like the most beautiful woman
whose grace is utterly without artifice
of seduction
naked
without shame
brave
without pretense
all-wise
with unknowing
she wears a
starry inner smile
all through
her wardrobe of tears
that glisten with
the way she listens
she wants
to dance
and wrestle
and win
as she watches you
and waves
to begin
Dare
I dare you to be yourself, to let your spirit sing,
to do the thing only you can, and to let it be the right one
even when the rest of the western world has gone wrong,
I dare you to dare yourself, to find out if and when your
limits truly end,
to find out if all the can’ts clammering in your
consciousness
will continue to keep you from testing the edge,
I dare you to enter the palace of your own existence
and surrender to the splendor and the glory
and the power of what you are,
to stand silently unshaken in your beliefs
amidst the most violent clashes of opinion,
I dare you to know yourself,
not the idea of yourself,
not the way you present yourself to others,
not the way you should or would like to be
but to expose the nitty-grittiest heart-feltiest
most unashamedly naked speck of your soul
to yourself, the universe, and at least
one other person
before it’s too late
No comments:
Post a Comment