Saturday, February 17, 2007

partly rendered images

partly rendered images

he stares into the distorted reflection
as if it were an awake dream,
it is midday yet he wonders where
she will be when the sun sets across
the midwestern horizon;

time zone and geography denied.
why should he care,
why do thoughts even graze
the mind's vision of her visage?
never having had a single touch,

they live vicariously in each
other's imagination;
full of partly rendered images
and half said sentiments,
filling gaps with the desire of hope

and desperation of loneliness.
genies aren't found in closets
so the instinct to lustfully wander
is as strong as waxwings looking for cedars;
albatrosses fleeing familiar shores.

miracles aren't found in god boxes or
behind altars so the desire to mutter
dangerous desires is like a
murder of crows looking for roadkill;
constrictors embracing its meal.

with sunset in the rear view mirror,
she drives east into the violet dusk
her mind on the reflection of
a heart's imagination becoming
clear somewhere in the between.


Thursday, February 15, 2007


the spirit gets refreshed but flesh grows tired

the night is still young but inside
it feels like this dark passage
has matured and leaves me fatigued.
i search the night sky for a moon,
a beacon but only see reflections

of a blank stare hoping for some
sudden change, hoping for a ghost
or a miracle or a demon lover,
whichever comes first.
in the glass panes, dirty on the outside

and cold on the inside there are dark eyes
gazing at me. vaguely familiar eyes,
i'm sure i knew them once
when i was younger though i'm not sure
they were any more joyous back in that life,

back in that tale.
perhaps if i open the window,
open the floodgates, something will rush in,
blow these old letters and toss the swan quills
into a little storm with enough force

to bring life back into these old tissues.
the spirit gets refreshed but flesh grows tired
from constant re-use without another's touch,
from constant scrapes without another's caresses.
bones grow brittle from bitterness and

vessels get stiff and hardened from bitter tears.
the night is still young but inside
it feels like the next day's sunset,
all things fallen ahead of themselves
looking for a way out, for a gentle repose.

feb 14, 2007

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

black and white

blinding light [99 of 365]

look, look closely at this black;
the soul's color in these eyes.
universes contained within;
all pulled tight by gravity;
a singularity of emotions.

look, look closely at this white;
the sun's blinding light
barren of expression;
flared out a million miles;
supernova of emptiness.


Monday, February 12, 2007

blue coat

i was somewhere with dan.

i was excavating or sculpting. it was difficult to tell between the two. there was a large boulder and i had been staring at it for some time. it was granite and rough. i forged some tools; odd looking things like chisels yet with tiny finger like prongs; some had two, some had three or more. i made at least three or four of these tools.

with them, i was revealing a code written in the stone. it was like chipping away at little bits to reveal something like lines of braille. but as the lines continued, they became more like a bas relief seam in the rock. it was like two tectonic plates coming together, pushing together. it reminded me of satellite images of the seam running north south in the atlantic ocean. the middle crease was dark and on either side of the slopes of the seams there was white, like grey hair at the temples of an aging man.

we talked about it, wondered what it meant and then had to pack up.

as we were walking into an airport, there was a woman. curly blonde, medium height wearing a three quarter length blue coat tied at the waist. she kept glancing at me but not turned enough for me to ever see her face.

i glanced at dan, questioning. he shrugged. i figured it was a message of some sort. i just don't know what it means.

nothing new really, my dreamscapes are full of strangers who sometimes take months or years until i meet them in real life. perhaps this is why i make records of the encounters; so i can be sure later i was not imagining things...

strange thing later, in waking state...

i had a chat with an old coworker i had not talked to in ages. i had some business related questions to her...

i asked where she was working now? she said, oh! i'm at blue coat.

thing is it didn't really occur to me until i was writing the last lines of the dream journal entry...

nothing surprises me anymore. i still don't know what the dream means but that is the beauty of it, i suppose...