aloft, two spirits ride the wintry gale
to tame the dragon, carve the sea a sail
one spirit rides with scabbard jet and blade
the other with a hex upon his stave
in life, their bitter rivalry was born
in death, a twisted irony implored
for both are bidden bound without the first
life then death have locked them in their curse
one so vile a bond that shan't renew
anything to recompense their feud
so entrenched the spirits are to this
their steed, the winter revenant amiss
that thrashing for the bridle in their vice
two spirits ride eternity the price
Sunday, May 31, 2009
MY BIKE
my bike has thin tires
and straight handles
i ride it in sandals
made from shoes that
used to have no holes
just two black lines
one front to back
the other side to side
i penned them myself
and they meant something
one thing
that is gone now
but i still remember it
front to back
and side to side
every time i ride my bike
and straight handles
i ride it in sandals
made from shoes that
used to have no holes
just two black lines
one front to back
the other side to side
i penned them myself
and they meant something
one thing
that is gone now
but i still remember it
front to back
and side to side
every time i ride my bike
THE METRO
electric blue.
glass and steel.
i could fall in love.
with a blonde, even.
but i am falling out,
and down,
and underneath instead.
i am falling
over you
and into something new.
i am falling
fast awake
into electric blue.
glass and steel.
i could fall in love.
with a blonde, even.
but i am falling out,
and down,
and underneath instead.
i am falling
over you
and into something new.
i am falling
fast awake
into electric blue.
DAFFODILS
i wandered through the hills
searching
i found you daffodils
thirteen
i brought you every one
but one
doesn't it feel
doesn't it feel
doesn't it
feel
like
none?
searching
i found you daffodils
thirteen
i brought you every one
but one
doesn't it feel
doesn't it feel
doesn't it
feel
like
none?
THIS IS LOVE TO ME
blacktop, head-to-head
hand-in-hand in hats
swing sets, dirty sand
and dirtier hands
puffy coats and rosy noses
traveled roads
and broken roses
scent of sex
and sweet green tea
this is love to me
hand-in-hand in hats
swing sets, dirty sand
and dirtier hands
puffy coats and rosy noses
traveled roads
and broken roses
scent of sex
and sweet green tea
this is love to me
DAVID
there's nothing left in air worth breathing deep
for shallow breath a shallow heartbeat keeps
and in a topsoil life, your roots grow teeth
a clenching fist, your fingers running deep
and strong enough to grip the earth in hand
a single life could loose
like david
hope into the land
for shallow breath a shallow heartbeat keeps
and in a topsoil life, your roots grow teeth
a clenching fist, your fingers running deep
and strong enough to grip the earth in hand
a single life could loose
like david
hope into the land
THE ROBIN
my mother wanted me to be a girl
more so than either of my brothers
as i was the to be the third-born
and the artist
and this is the way it has been for centuries
and it was written in the stars
that i would be her daughter, herself a girl
a beautiful hand-painted wooden cup of a girl
destined to be lifted up myself
only to reveal another
as an infinite chain of little wooden russian dolls
and she would be gifted
and creative
and write poetry
and oh, how beautiful to someday find the words
sparked from a mind she made herself
the words all written on parchment, because she liked the smell
and common flowers kept between the pages
like dried, flattened promises
and she would be my mother all over again
a pattern in repeat
and it is said that your child is always more beautiful than you
as god would have it, a gift
so someday everyone will be perfect
no eyes set low, or far too close
and maybe this girl
whose name was picked out, but never told to me
would be the beginning of it all
the most beautiful girl on earth
and she would wear a sundress
would throw your heart against a trampoline
and she would smile, and promise nothing
but she would have to make it out first
and she never would, and neither will i
because i am not that girl
and i am not that promise
and i am not that answer
and i am not that
bright
red-breasted
son-of-a-bitch
of a
bird
more so than either of my brothers
as i was the to be the third-born
and the artist
and this is the way it has been for centuries
and it was written in the stars
that i would be her daughter, herself a girl
a beautiful hand-painted wooden cup of a girl
destined to be lifted up myself
only to reveal another
as an infinite chain of little wooden russian dolls
and she would be gifted
and creative
and write poetry
and oh, how beautiful to someday find the words
sparked from a mind she made herself
the words all written on parchment, because she liked the smell
and common flowers kept between the pages
like dried, flattened promises
and she would be my mother all over again
a pattern in repeat
and it is said that your child is always more beautiful than you
as god would have it, a gift
so someday everyone will be perfect
no eyes set low, or far too close
and maybe this girl
whose name was picked out, but never told to me
would be the beginning of it all
the most beautiful girl on earth
and she would wear a sundress
would throw your heart against a trampoline
and she would smile, and promise nothing
but she would have to make it out first
and she never would, and neither will i
because i am not that girl
and i am not that promise
and i am not that answer
and i am not that
bright
red-breasted
son-of-a-bitch
of a
bird
O, ROMERO
o, romero
read between the lines
and found a life worth reading
said "if color red
could pull the bull
and make the blood worth bleeding
i would wear it every day
and every night
till i stop breathing."
read between the lines
and found a life worth reading
said "if color red
could pull the bull
and make the blood worth bleeding
i would wear it every day
and every night
till i stop breathing."
SHE IS
she is dancing in the wind, all alone.
she is swinging on a set, slightly slow.
she is a castle or a flagship when in need.
she is the grass beneath my feet, a sweet reprieve.
she is a promise.
she is a secret.
she is a whisper in the dark.
and she's a pyre miles high when i'm a fuse in need of spark.
she is swinging on a set, slightly slow.
she is a castle or a flagship when in need.
she is the grass beneath my feet, a sweet reprieve.
she is a promise.
she is a secret.
she is a whisper in the dark.
and she's a pyre miles high when i'm a fuse in need of spark.
WHEN MORNING COMES
what are we when morning comes?
changed if sleep evaded us
arms set low with pain move slow
the parable of night to show
how one man comes
another goes
he leaves behind his skin just so -
what are we when morning comes?
changed if sleep evaded us
changed if sleep evaded us
arms set low with pain move slow
the parable of night to show
how one man comes
another goes
he leaves behind his skin just so -
what are we when morning comes?
changed if sleep evaded us
STILL LIFE NIGHT
a still life night has fingers, calloused tips
brushed against the spine in reminisce
it sets you down and out and all apart
like marionette strings clipped to the start
and fallen, graceless, silent in the wake
a cold forgotten puppet sort of state
and all the fragile pieces of a life
are nothing to the man that lies in sight
of a still life night.
brushed against the spine in reminisce
it sets you down and out and all apart
like marionette strings clipped to the start
and fallen, graceless, silent in the wake
a cold forgotten puppet sort of state
and all the fragile pieces of a life
are nothing to the man that lies in sight
of a still life night.
TO LOVE, WITH LOVE
i've settled with you so, and now i write
"dear love, with love I come to you tonight
'twas good to fine'ly dine with you again
it's been too long since i could call you friend
in fact, last time i wrote 'twas no reply
i thought perhaps you'd left me here to dry
up in the sun, my clothes and then my heart
sequentially, a fitting way to start
then start my heart on fire just to see
it burn away the same, sequentially
but no, it seems, my heart you have returned
and you have changed, my love, and i have learned
where first you came and left, a hurricane,
now without the wind, a gentle rain."
"dear love, with love I come to you tonight
'twas good to fine'ly dine with you again
it's been too long since i could call you friend
in fact, last time i wrote 'twas no reply
i thought perhaps you'd left me here to dry
up in the sun, my clothes and then my heart
sequentially, a fitting way to start
then start my heart on fire just to see
it burn away the same, sequentially
but no, it seems, my heart you have returned
and you have changed, my love, and i have learned
where first you came and left, a hurricane,
now without the wind, a gentle rain."
THE WILDFLOWER
i want to wander in my acres
nothing touched by man
all the paths meandering
no purpose to be had
i want to seek the wildflower
that grows within the heart
at the center of the wood
where beats a beckon part
i want the thorns to cut me
to leave behind a mark
that i might find my way to you
when back that path i start
i want to smell the wildflower
when finally closing in
knowing it your fragrance
the way my air grows thin
i want to find it beating there
with glistened light embue
i want to pluck it from its place
and bring it back to you
nothing touched by man
all the paths meandering
no purpose to be had
i want to seek the wildflower
that grows within the heart
at the center of the wood
where beats a beckon part
i want the thorns to cut me
to leave behind a mark
that i might find my way to you
when back that path i start
i want to smell the wildflower
when finally closing in
knowing it your fragrance
the way my air grows thin
i want to find it beating there
with glistened light embue
i want to pluck it from its place
and bring it back to you
DUSK
dusk filtered in through open door
reminding me of old
her character a kind rapport
the sun too proud to show
but then she settled on my chest
and kissed me off to sleep
that i'd forget to dwell the past
and remember to dream
for there's a heavy in it all
a somber swift reprieve
when weeping fails for sadness' sake
and breathing pains the beat
and dusk doth own some guilt in this
the sorrow in her seam
despite her beauty, in remiss
she wishes me to dream
reminding me of old
her character a kind rapport
the sun too proud to show
but then she settled on my chest
and kissed me off to sleep
that i'd forget to dwell the past
and remember to dream
for there's a heavy in it all
a somber swift reprieve
when weeping fails for sadness' sake
and breathing pains the beat
and dusk doth own some guilt in this
the sorrow in her seam
despite her beauty, in remiss
she wishes me to dream
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