parked here

for ingrid

parked here, i sit wondering of you;

two weeks have passed and no word

since you said you’re calling 911.

parked here, sweet crepes and butter

were our morning delight in franz's

since days we could claim youth.

don’t let this be that kind of poem

not yet, not in this way;

so far, those memories

so far, the path still lies ahead.

parked here, i hold a glacier’s tears

millennia have passed, patience, they say

i won’t count future lives until we meet again.

don’t let this be those kinds of words;

people murmur in fear of unknowns

since days we stared at stars.

8 february 2016

the horse and the rider

This was written with no edits as part of an archetypes and visual imagery exercise in which I selected some Tarot cards and one Archetype card (by Sandra Myss) then used the images as cues with as little left-brain thinking as possible. This was written in about 15 minutes. It is interesting what still came out. Or maybe it isn't surprising.

--

the horse and the rider

trusting fate will come to them

as one or one as two

or two becoming one

with the innocence and trust of a child

of a newborn not yet with knowledge

not yet holding the power of choice

the power of choosing

one path leaves wreckage in its trail

another leaves seeds of life to grow

is it like the trust of the mother and her child

does she know that the child

could be the knight

could be the soldier

or the poet

or warrior monk

could she know that the child

could have the power to create

the power to destroy

the power to make others laugh

the power to make multitudes cry in sorrow

is the sorrow a thing of invention

is it a thing of creation

just as she created the child

or is it a mirror of herself

is the child to be the knight to fight all her dragons

and shed the blood of enemies

or is the child just a mirror of a self

  she would rather not see

  but knows in her heart she is a part of

(February 18, 2015)

Murmurs

Starkness of skyStarlings and murmursScotland awaits
9 February 2015

Maestoso

Brahm's "Maestoso" in the hands of Grimaud
Drift down in sheets against a Hebridean sky.

Sudden warm breath above a cold swaying sea
Impinges a moment's annoyance; violation,

Daring to slip a feather onto stony anvil;
Her fingers graze across a sandpapery mane

Seeping her softness into the saline crust
Of the sepulchre of the equine malcontent.

7 February, 2015

*"Maestoso" is the first movement of Brahm's 1st Piano Concerto. In this case, performed by Helène Grimaud with the Southwest German Radio Symphony Orchestra, Michael Gielen conducting.

Flow

In silence dark masses move;
emotions flow like cooling magma;
like tunneling magma trying to find light;

trying to reach the sky
beneath surging, crashing waves,
violently cooled, subdued by cold;

by metallic brine and cleansing foam
but finding form as steam;
angrily escaping mother's clutch;

ejected into air, seeking darkness again
beyond the blue dome, a frontier to
a still vacuum, one without sound;

the brittle cold of space,
the expanses between celestial bodies,
between stars, galaxies and nebulas;

the closest distance from this state of mind
and an enlightened existence
foregoing circles of cause and effect.

Napoleon's Horses

Like Napoleon's horses in the Russian winter;
He slips and slides across the frozen river
Sensing the waterbed that lies beneath.

The chilly grave that preserves until Spring thaw
When the carcass of his cares will be freed.
Those who drown always keep their last expression;

Those who find the lost lose morsels of their faith
To a desire that only human hearts can dream of;
And only a god's neurosis would consider granting.

He remembers as sounds of brittle crystals cracking
That using one's last moments in prayer is foolhardy.

January 29, 2015

Ghosts

This autumn I won't be spending with ghosts
I won't be dancing with faces that have faded
the golds and reds of this season will fall
and be a prelude to the light of what I'll find
when these lids lift and the warm glow of you
touches my face, I'll know it is time to wake

11 December 2008

Two shades too light

He pours tea
Into pale porcelain
The green of sencha
Is two shades too light
So more leaves fall
Into the pot
So he can match
The hue of her eyes

28 May 2008

Fusion

The distance is the distance
And the time is a wait
The time is a fuse between
Two preternatural embers
So the distance becomes a touch
The distance becomes closeness
And the time becomes singularity
The fuse becomes fusion

19 May 2008

Out of the Corner

Out of the corner of my eyes
I always think there is an emerald
Glittering in the midday sun
Out of the reach of my ears
I always think I hear a voice;
A bird of paradise in a tree
So I keep my senses vigilant
But when a breeze brings that scent
I know my favorite muse is near

13 May 2008

If You Must Know

If you must know
I was thinking of her
The sun was setting
Sky turning into violet
And vermillion
Outside my window
And I looked
For the shades of green
That I know are in her eyes
If you must know
I was thinking of the distance
That separates us
And the closeness
In the words that we utter
And of how the deep ocean
Resembles our connection

(23 April 2008)

Hold

if i can't hold you in my thoughts
then let this be all a dream
at the edge of wakefulness
let the glimmering images
of your smile be a phantom
in my imperfect memory
let it all pass like a handful of snow
melting through loose fingers
from your body heat and
i can be on my way down the path
between bare birches
their white bark reminding me
of your skin and once the shadows
have engulfed me wait for sixteen heartbeats
before you light the beacon
that will guide my frail steps
home to where you wait

Glow

There came a glow in these dark eyes
Because I thought of you
Even in this early hour
When the robins have yet to sing
Nor the ravens have yet to caw
There came a glow in this muscle
Beneath my ribs because
You visited me in my darkest dreaming
Bringing light I did not know existed
So in these eyes barely light enough
To give you a hue I think of you
And hope that when in your gaze
They will grow brighter and
In one day I won't see you
Merely through a photograph

6 April 2008

Astonished

It is astonishing
That in the cold numbness
Of your feelings
A passing bird

A bird in flight
Across your focus
Could change
The hues of your sunrise

It is astonishing
How your gravity shifts
Because you see a delicate creature
Unbound by the weight of the earth

Fluttering across your vision
Changing all of your dreams
What dreams have come before
What dreams will come after

In the turbulence of pale white wings
You'll never be the same as before
You think that the armor is thick enough
You think that experience

Has built enough cynicism
You think and think and then find that
Your eyes cannot look away
From the one fluttering feather

Passing through the air in the trail
Of the passing dove
In that moment
You find in astonishment

That your world
Your world has forever changed

1 April 2008

Ember

He stares out into the afternoon light
Thinking of her image
With eyes closed mouth parted

And forehead against the cold steel wall
Hands delicate as primary feathers of a swan
With grace in her neck to match

He stared into the image in his mind
And let lose his eyes
To the thoughts of her being

Trying to feel ephemerally
Her mercurial mood
Trying to close the distance

An expanse of continent and ocean
Trying to reach the source of the little fire
That burns beneath his ribs

Like an ember that sleeps for years
Before evolving into a forest fire

30 March 2008

mirrors

he

stood
outside

himself
hoping to

look

into the wells
of his own

eyes

but couldn't see
through mirrors

that kept
strangers

at bay

(26 March 2008)

Serve

Midnight came too early
Dawn passed without sleep
And dreams did not come

Until birds ceased to sing
And I sit here feeling battered
As if night holds a grudge because

I was recapitulating my day instead
Of listening to her lamentation
Give me a hand or a cup of tea

To warm my touch and soothe my senses
Or give me longer days and nights
So I can two mistresses serve

25 March 2008

formations

lines ascend
accelerate
abruptly plummet
turn like eagles
in mating dances
slashes dots curls
congregate
a thousand bees
ready for forage
rows rows rows
of variant formations
yield at end of pages
what a single image
imprints into memory
of patient observant ones

–equusignis

Shadows (of things that get overlooked)

Today seemed overly productive, for a while there, so I decided by mid-afternoon it was time to stretch my legs with a photowalk outside. The sky was clear and cold so I walked. Oddly, I walked and walked and even got on a bus and I was uninspired to take a photo of anything. Not good. I boarded a bus and headed to a local bookstore. It was depressing. It looked like it was trying to regain itself from the Holiday rush. I considered seeing a movie but that seemed contradictory to my getting out of the house.

It was not until I was almost home that I started to click the shutter. It seemed odd because they were at places where I saw almost everyday and found a couple of new things. So...



And when I looked at the photo, this came to me:

Shadows as veins
Reveal past damage
Shadows as lines
Reveal ages past

January 7, 2008

clouds

if she calls
if they call
if i call myself
what will it come to?

in the cold days
i love to walk in the shade
knowing the light might melt me
knowing even i have a limit

if she calls
if they call
what if i hide myself
what would that bring me

in distant cloud days
in days when they are shy
i sense they won't enable me
they play tag with the yellow disc

02 december 2007