Saturday, February 26, 2011

Willowy Woman

A tall, fair broomstick
of a woman,
mild blue-eyed,
and generous of expression
and possession,
a comely scarecrow
begging crow
to take her corn.

A Kiss

Gently they brush in glancing caress
soft, without sweetness
 no sweeter
than
no softer than cream
then sink to soothing depth,
the flare of your mouth
so soft as cream;
I long to kiss you deeply.

Friday, February 25, 2011

False Dreams

As if flying in a manner
both swift and slow,
graceful and absurd,
he leapt abandoned
to descent into madness
as the sky disappeared beneath
and false wings folded.
In ensuing insanity
perplexing and tumultuous
incongruities in conclusions
delayed re-entry to systems
with contemptuous motive.
While laboring under illusions
of that lost society's offer
and accepting the vital transplant,
in faith his spirit restored.

Secret Comfort

I know myself
and the worst of that
which finds me capable,
and of what I am guilty;
what I know best,
my own inner evil,
my secret comfort
for which I recuse excuse.
And as a snake sheds its skin
that certained disquiet-ness
gives way to a spontaneity,
while short a sense of happiness,
becomes a new secret comfort.

Purpose

To remind they
of that which
no one can stand
being reminded of.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Fear or Shame?

Afraid, perhaps ashamed
to say "I don't like you,"
he yawned
and scratched himself.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

No Longer Mine

Having a first name
relationship with regret
we sat together front row
to watch the breaking of my heart.
I cried to the wind
to touch her ear,
but she belongs
with someone else;
now she belongs
to someone else,
where she once belonged
to my kiss.
But love is short
and oblivion so long,
and I loved her
and once she loved me, too.
It matters no longer
that my love couldn't keep her,
the rain's chill reminding
she is not with me.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Patternless Rhymes

He is and has been
so many things;
and today he is starved
for the affections
of she who sings
in tones that force
recall of when

life didn't divide into sections
that in due course
would hold a heart carved.

Loose Lines

The mooring lines
that tethered him to reality
began to part, silently,
and then came the sickening lurch
in his being...
Actions with eternal echoes,
rolling world after world,
tugging loose threads
from cosmic tapestries
needn't have spread,
yet did,
until changes of poetic proportions
overtook and overcame
a personal objection
to same.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Chance Avoidance

At first a distant disturbance,
as ripple mars still water,
as gentle breeze
chucks at aspen leaves;
And none too smart
in chance meets,
gaze falling beyond
avoids the lightning strike
and fluttering heart
of Love's accomplished feat.

Intensity

Never his intention
to live at this intensity -
the excessive temperature
suggested by opera -
the shape of his life
was not peculiar
yet still original;
health became the new orthodoxy,
the new criterion by which
he was judged of the fold
or outside of it.

Is It Love

A combination of syllables;
physical, devotion, loyalty, joy,
shared interests, values and times -
what do you call this
if not love?

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

faultline

Tangled and inseparable,
two lives, one love,
as trees grown together,

a single trunk
faulted at the heart.

The Serpent

In my dream he appears,
addiction rears
ugly head; an enormous
stained-glass serpent
that shattered inside my heart
but still moved about blindly
trying to reassemble itself.
And all I need do
to keep beast subdued
is stay in the midst
and kick shards apart.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Sabrina

It's the same each time I see her,
these visits of my volition
but drawn by a spell.
It's her eyes that compel.
Dark chocolate eyes,
one fringed blond
and one brunette,
semi-sweet and softening,
smiling,
dancing,
listening,
keenly alive with interest
holding my rapt focus.

Rockhoppers

A crazed pattern of granite eggs
washed clean by foam
carried on lunar swells, begs
my attention to youth at home
hopping as sandy fleas,
rock to rock
with squeals of glee.

Lover's Point

Dawn's chill dispelled,
above the waves
stroll hand-in-hand lovers
at this grove of cypress
along pacific shore.

Sunset

The day failing,
an orange sun descends as a comet,
with near frightening rapidity,
and ruby light pools
along the horizon like blood,
hammering the serenity of the bay.
The last horizontal rays
cast diamonds to the oncoming night;
sunset is God's gift
to my eyes.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

A Thunderous Silence

Her memories had her waiting
for his oft' tardy appearance,
and in her patient time
perhaps wondering,
"Has he ever noticed the scar
below my kneecap?"
His litany of lateness'
was covered by a bond
of mutually assured affection.
She'd never hold him to a sundial.
And in those times together,
four eyes flickering
with a lingering seep of memory;
each owning a piece of time,
holding it to savor,
watching her, pleased more
by her company
than any assistance,
silence seemed to have been there,
waiting for them.
And in that moment's breathless anticipation
his realization was;
he'd wait an hour to watch her mouth,
the scintillating way words
unspooled from her lips.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Black Velvet

Night, and its comforting blanket
envelop my mind,
and a vision of your shape
spreads across inky velvet,
softer than tactile memory,
leaps, and growls quietly,
vague guttural urgency
calling back to fore,
replete with scents.
These thoughts of you enliven me.

Superhero No More

The black and lighted
vacuum of space is littered
with the remains of my cape;
demotion from superhero,
humiliating and thorough.
From my castle in the sky,
this thunderbolt un-knighted
abrogates desires left tattered.
But it's silly to pretend
I'll never wish on a star again.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

On Reflection

Periodically each day I pause,
consider the world around me:
strapped as I am in my
steel Ford cage going somewhere
that could be anywhere,
yet only where I decide to be;
and here I am again,
walking through a treed countryside
yet suddenly, there are black and white sneakers
dangling from overhead wires.

And there I go:
struggling in front of years
of guilt and shame,
and wasted opportunity,
and forfeit love;
and there I go again,
with self-condemnation,
even my unspoken intonation
mimicking speech patterns.

From, ""Here I am," to, "There I go,"
and back again and again
in a once besotted brain
that now remarks more on the obvious.
We all go toward something
taking mental notes and past along.
I think it has become too late
to rethink things.

Kaleidoscope Pixies

Watching the sunlight shatter
across the bay,
and regroup to sliver
again in refractory bliss
evening shadows lengthen
and the kaleidoscope pixies
play across my eyes
while the silent hiss of sun's set
under rose and lavender skies
etches my life.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Emotion, or Reason

Should emotion ever
be ousted by reason?
That heart tug,
ineluctable as gravity,
bears more to relish
than philosophy, who in observation
sees little human. No.
Love is more serious than that.