June 2011
9 posts
Numbers.
Some I remember,
Like counting the flight of leaves in autumn,
Or the specifics of your slow fingers,
Lifting and falling
In their regular effect,
To define your eyes each morning,
The passes where the clock has seen itself coming,
Since I was last with you, noting the seconds of our eyes
Talking, losing the frequency of your laugher,
(I am a million atoms twinned with dates and...
The day touched you briefly and released,
Painted eyes, mouth parted
And blossoming.
Smiling vaguely, an action of muscle
Passing time, into the fading ship of ourselves,
Words and hands exacting their trickery,
Shadow rampant to dim the eyes,
Or reveal a profile in stages-
The suspense of tossed sheets,
Amber dawn lifting the room into focus,
With the mellow turning
Of one body to...
To watch the subtle light
Increase its melodious,
Taking of shadow,
(Becoming sky)
Vague silhouettes rise from
The weight of their solitude,
Reaching fingers, withered with silence
(Becoming trees) Heavy with moisture and promise
And flower like truths are wandering,
The faint arch of her mouth
Fixed between
A beginning and end.
She will have breathed living,
Into my bones, and...
Just a bit of fun...
I am not an intellectual. I read- (Sometimes I understand, Enough to persuade a listener, I disguise some great question in each hand)
I am not an artist. I paint- (Sometimes I have drawn, Shapes with the vagueness of an evening, Merging with her dawn)
I am not a musician. I play- (Sometimes I resurrect old melodies, That she might say, You never play well, but play to me)
Culture.
As the front benches assemble their number, Monotony sings opposition to opposition, Mutilating cascade,
Distant oblivion of thunder, I am seated at the bar, emptying glasses, Leaning toward invincibility,
In the numbing fall of inhibition, mind stilling hour, (When external stimuli combat against others) Stumbling upon some weighted truth,
Is the experience of...
The hour where light provides No definition of object or objective, Raises a sloping neck, To star crowned limits.
As a positivist is merely a recipient, Of vibration, in amusing a sonata, No empathy smiles to abstractions on canvas, A Tree in Naples, or elsewhere.
The sleepless stagger over the reoccurrence of an idea, (The dark haired girl recalls Beethoven in her gestures) (de Koonings’s...
The Money Tree
The age of innocence, Is simply to live, Young cloudburst of energy, I rose at dawn, sparing nothing to thought,
(I may belong to a class) (The colour of my skin is this) What the regular trips in the red car Meant (time with my father)
Stationary in the wings, (A face blurred as a photograph) Whom I may have met yesterday Or what my mother did,
(Well and long) To put food on the table, Only...
When issued with the ultimatum Of a smile, had the last stranger told of, The willful vice your eyes Exhibit, when I am statuesque At the focus of a lens
Rehearsing a tentative, Pre-prepared typescript, Suffering, momentary, In the pastures of my tongue, Before facing the audience
And your answer- I cannot be envious Of the fact you know the transparency of My clothes, and exploit the...
