12/28/11

YESTERSTORY

So it came to be
that nothing mattered to the wind
and it ceased blowing angrily around things
such as when it howled around houses

Such as when people around tables
brought the food to their mouths
with slower deliberation

as if to make certain
the wind would not hear
and take offense

as if it mattered to the wind

12/17/11

ALL THE DREAMS OF BLACK AND WHITE



All the Dreams of White and Black
in rings surround each other;
consecutively triumphing,
each one will strain to reign.

Unaware the Coil they spin
one end loops to the other
completing triumphantly
a God-ring, gray, to stay.

10/27/11

10/15/11

MAD DOG


Once was a dog there. He was.
Oh he grinned. Happy dog.

But he knew
something commanded.

Once a moon there is,
it attracts water.

He lolled away from it.
In his madness,

he came to loathe the sea
and what it contained.

It is easy to see how
he shied from that huge stomach

and the slow bloat of its crest
during night. The dog had no name

and he roamed across the land like a whitecap
leaving prints that would fade in slowmelt

trailing behind him—the signature
of a wraith, erased by dawn's arrival.

No one knew where he came from
or what he was doing

6/26/11

HAIKU



Black outside is the

night. Stars. Clouds. Rain. Flash lightning—

Thunder. Morning comes.

EFFECTS OF MOON


Break apart into
drifting rocks

set your sight
on the nearest moon.

You have released it.
It will float some

where else now
and eventually be

captured by another's
gravity until

the time that person
relinquishes,

surrendering
into fragments,

liberating the
nomadic moon,

allowing it
to continue

its pale drifting
and its occasional

nightly silvering
of alien beaches

and the wise eyes
that gaze from them.

BROKEN LAUGHTER



within they
crumble

but at least

revealing the ones
that remain

out shining
is always when

you're alone

never falls on
their heads

like a storm
their within

crumbles
leaving nothing

after wind the shells
begin to crack

erosion takes care
of the rest

so happy

together
pieces and bits

never smile
in the least

what you

are seeing
is the continual

rocking
of

a

curved
shard

6/25/11

UPON THE WALLS


Retreating into the fold
of his shell, an echo

buried in a cistern
of clear memories

(never mind the lair
that entraps him).

The emblazoned, sanctified
relics hung on the walls

persistent signatures
of pain. While some wink

shut others open
slowly and stare

1/21/11

RAIN



whispers to me
your secret.

It tells me

of the seeds
in your pockets

and the clouds
in your hair

and it tells me

it can draw
you out

of your dry place
for a price.



Of course I know

the price
but I dimiss it

and the rain
sets out to find you

and I wait

soaked.



I dry in the rays

of the sun
when the rain returns

without you

it says nothing
only indicates

the ground at my feet
a tulip sprouts

and blooms

before me.



I am reminded

of your return

1/6/11

THE SPECTER OF ACTUALITY


Everything is caught
in the undertow.
I think music captures
this truth best.

I keep moving
until I match
the speed of life.
Then I let go.

The point is not
to pass or avoid
failing the test.
The test is merely

The true measure
of one's worth.
Taking it or leaving it
has always been our choice.

A voice will dissolve
into mist, haunting
harbors and homes.
Scratching at steamed
windows in the snow.

Emitted from the creaking
of anchored chains,
The whispers of the dead
fall upon emptiness.

I try to become familiar
with these empty spaces.
I try to remember these
lost voices once belonged
to different faces.

Individuals forgotten
in time. Yes, I can
imagine. No countries.
Only land. Listen to
the whispering wind.

It only tells of friends
lost or gained.
All these leaves
are carried downstream,
Headed toward the same sea.

That's the message carried
in the chuckling laughter
of a babbling brook.
It is the secret
in the book.