Your eyes meet mine,
hot
longing
in your eyes
when they meet mine.
You touch my hand,
and I wonder -
What is it that you are
proposing,
exactly?
Commingling our spirit breath
in deep passionate kisses?
Hearts pulsing, beating breath against breath,
moving in concert with the
oldest rhythms of the universe,
rocking in the cradle of the universe,
touching the very center of the universe,
briefly - too briefly;
soaring beyond ourselves,
loosing our bonds,
binding our souls.
Or, do you just want
to get
laid?
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Another Night Alone
Another night alone, and I
don't really mind
it
except
I hear the coal train every hour on the hour,
and I don't sleep
all that well,
but then, who does, anyway?
And it's not as if
you were ever
really
here
(that much).
It wouldn't be so bad
if the dog didn't have gas
and the toilet
downstairs
wasn't running because I can't fix
the flipper or flapper,
whatever it's called...
I suppose I could hire someone
to do most of what you did
or didn't do
around here,
but that old dog is another matter altogether.
don't really mind
it
except
I hear the coal train every hour on the hour,
and I don't sleep
all that well,
but then, who does, anyway?
And it's not as if
you were ever
really
here
(that much).
It wouldn't be so bad
if the dog didn't have gas
and the toilet
downstairs
wasn't running because I can't fix
the flipper or flapper,
whatever it's called...
I suppose I could hire someone
to do most of what you did
or didn't do
around here,
but that old dog is another matter altogether.
Sunday Morning
1. Chickadee time at
the feeder: chick-a-dee-dee.
Look out for jaybirds!
2. Chickadees flocking
to the feeder - jaunty black
caps salute the sun.
3. Black cat quiet, lurks
beneath the Ponderosa pine,
a lethal shadow.
4. Silently she creeps
closer, then still - she pounces.
Feeder a-flutter!
the feeder: chick-a-dee-dee.
Look out for jaybirds!
2. Chickadees flocking
to the feeder - jaunty black
caps salute the sun.
3. Black cat quiet, lurks
beneath the Ponderosa pine,
a lethal shadow.
4. Silently she creeps
closer, then still - she pounces.
Feeder a-flutter!
Sonnet to Recycling
I am so bloody tired of recycling:
rinsing every blasted dried tomato bit
from sharp-edged cans, cans that cut my fingers,
tuna tins, plastic peanut butter jars with lids.
And what about those lids? Are they OK
to recycle? They have no symbols in sight.
I squint and rub a soapy hand to see
if I've missed it somehow, that symbol.
I haul it out to the garage and sort
it into bins, into baskets and piles.
I drive thirty miles to recycle this stuff -
thirty miles in my old Ford S-U-V.
Then I enjoy McDonald's bacon, egg
and cheese biscuit with a medium coffee.
All in styrofoam.
rinsing every blasted dried tomato bit
from sharp-edged cans, cans that cut my fingers,
tuna tins, plastic peanut butter jars with lids.
And what about those lids? Are they OK
to recycle? They have no symbols in sight.
I squint and rub a soapy hand to see
if I've missed it somehow, that symbol.
I haul it out to the garage and sort
it into bins, into baskets and piles.
I drive thirty miles to recycle this stuff -
thirty miles in my old Ford S-U-V.
Then I enjoy McDonald's bacon, egg
and cheese biscuit with a medium coffee.
All in styrofoam.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
A Cloudy Friday Morning
The Milky Way is
stitched across the night - sequins
on a bridal gown.
+++
We dare not dwell
on what might have been, or once was
nor the dark within.
+++
A foggy Friday morning
as I lie abed,
cat on counterpane.
stitched across the night - sequins
on a bridal gown.
+++
We dare not dwell
on what might have been, or once was
nor the dark within.
+++
A foggy Friday morning
as I lie abed,
cat on counterpane.
Larceny
The heart's larceny knows no pride,
no bounds.
And that door swings both ways.
We are equally as willing to deceive
as to be deceived.
Stolen moments like fools gold
glint in the shifting sand.
We reach to capture them
even as we realize they are sham.
Charmed by their glitter,
we are willing,
in that moment,
to believe.
no bounds.
And that door swings both ways.
We are equally as willing to deceive
as to be deceived.
Stolen moments like fools gold
glint in the shifting sand.
We reach to capture them
even as we realize they are sham.
Charmed by their glitter,
we are willing,
in that moment,
to believe.
Tanka in Process (5,7,5,7,7)
Slipping the surly
bonds of earth, the spirit
rises in the night sky.
A red comet, giving up
the ghost of an old lover
bonds of earth, the spirit
rises in the night sky.
A red comet, giving up
the ghost of an old lover
Dancing With the Angels
We dance with the angels,
you whisper in my ear.
We drive along in that Oldsmobile
you had
before the radiator blew.
Your sweet breath
in my ear, our deep kisses
soft and warm
in the long summer nights,
hot and dark by the silent river.
you whisper in my ear.
We drive along in that Oldsmobile
you had
before the radiator blew.
Your sweet breath
in my ear, our deep kisses
soft and warm
in the long summer nights,
hot and dark by the silent river.
White Shell Woman
What sacrifice made to White Shell Woman,
who shed tears
of fire.
She grieves for our lust for power, our mad
desires
unchecked.
Her serenity belies the fury of
her tears.
We fear to look on her dark side,
and find our own shadow life
Unlit by the stars
where our lives play out.
She weeps beyond the Milky Way,
unchanging.
who shed tears
of fire.
She grieves for our lust for power, our mad
desires
unchecked.
Her serenity belies the fury of
her tears.
We fear to look on her dark side,
and find our own shadow life
Unlit by the stars
where our lives play out.
She weeps beyond the Milky Way,
unchanging.
One of These Days
I'm going to die one day
in spite of unfiltered vinegar
and RAW ONE vitamins for Women.
I hope it's in a flash - if not
a flash of glory, a flash of
hope,
of redemption;
not a whimper of regret.
I'm going to die one day.
But not today.
in spite of unfiltered vinegar
and RAW ONE vitamins for Women.
I hope it's in a flash - if not
a flash of glory, a flash of
hope,
of redemption;
not a whimper of regret.
I'm going to die one day.
But not today.
Fear of Flying
We weren't perfect, you and I,
but we had fire, hot and white
burning cobalt the vault of night,
blazing across the sky
beneath us.
As Icarus, we flew too near the sun
without a thought or care
for what me might lose, we dared
risk the heat for the fun
of it.
I miss you, and what we lost
in careless flight,
never calculating the cost,
embracing the night
as we flew too near the sun.
The owl called your name.
We dared not hear,
as we dared not tame
our fear
of
flying.
but we had fire, hot and white
burning cobalt the vault of night,
blazing across the sky
beneath us.
As Icarus, we flew too near the sun
without a thought or care
for what me might lose, we dared
risk the heat for the fun
of it.
I miss you, and what we lost
in careless flight,
never calculating the cost,
embracing the night
as we flew too near the sun.
The owl called your name.
We dared not hear,
as we dared not tame
our fear
of
flying.
The Ways of the Heart
The ways of the heart are
lonely
and wild.
Known only late.
We fear our inner wolf,
howling at the
bleeding
moon.
lonely
and wild.
Known only late.
We fear our inner wolf,
howling at the
bleeding
moon.
Ephemera
Passion, reflected in the cold light
of the moon, is half in shadow:
Like Icarus, we fear proximity
to the sun, too near the fire,
lest we
burn.
of the moon, is half in shadow:
Like Icarus, we fear proximity
to the sun, too near the fire,
lest we
burn.
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