Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Castaway

I stand on this silent sand
waiting for the sunrise
and my feet are cold.

It's coming.It's coming.

The crackling begins at my toes
hissing and popping around my ankles
and this may be more than I can stand.

It's coming. It's coming.
I know.

The grinding crescendos against my legs
the chaos curls around my knees
and I lock them tight against each other

It's coming. It's coming.
I know
and I will wait.

The waves are crashing upon my face
the echoes soaking through my skin
and I strain to maintain my balance.

It's coming. It's coming.
I know and I will wait
as long as it takes.

I'm standing in this sea of static
listening for your voice. 

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Stop.

The world is not my ally and its slowly spinning
to pieces a stop frame explosion
in which i am the pause between the shots
and nothing more
so hold your breath while these flames
curl up and around you
the way my fingers used to
anchor in your hair
and look for me
every other heartbeat
i'll be there wrapping around you
i'll be your shield your shred of truth
and this place will take nothing
but our skin and our names
to settle like dust on these grey stones
and what care we for that
the world is not my ally in this war
but i will win it yet
because there is you and i
and the stars on our side
so hold on to me in this frame by frame destruction
we'll slip through the pauses
and be free

breathless

i like the way you breathe
like its something surprising
each small breath with a small catch at the end
where it whistles a little
against your smooth teeth
it makes me think that you
were once something else
a fish perhaps
and in your gliding motion
you drew oxygen to you through 
your silvered scales
and never had to think of it
you still do that here
in this flat land of horizon and wind
you pull all the air around you
like a regal robe
drawing the eyes of all
and not noticing, never noticing
but i do
and you ask me what i'm thinking

I like the way you breathe
and how you take my breath away

Monday, January 26, 2009

Precious.

I dreamt last night
that you were  here
that you were alright
and seeing your face like that
unbroken
your eyes whole and sure
with no shadows leaking out the corners
like ink to darken your face
made the whole world right again

i wish i knew what to do
how to gently fit my arms
in the midst of your shattered pieces
wrap up these broken edges
and fold my heart against yours
to keep it warm keep it moving
but i keep running up against these walls
and you won't throw me a key 
a ladder a thread
just stand there screaming waiting
and i can't keep you quiet
the world is not my ally and its slowly spinning
to pieces a stop frame explosion
in which i am the pause between shots
and nothing more

i dreamt that you were okay
and it was enough for today
one day i will beat the night
and you will be alright.

Friday, January 23, 2009

Light effects.

Once when i was young
they caught me staring into the sun
stretching my eyes wide
and opening my mouth
as though to swallow what remnants remained.
my hands were clenched tight
at my side against the fabric
already soaked in summer sweat.
I was startled when she shook my shoulders
my mother with her brown hair
that fell over her shoulder
like bird feathers layer against a wing
she made me turn my back
on the sun and its thousand reflections
in the rippled sea
and I screamed
when instead of her face there was nothing
but a pulsing black hole
that throbbed and bent in and out
towards me always towards me

I thought this creature she
would eat me. Alive.

I remember this now
with a small laugh to cover
the instinctive chill and flicking action of my fingers
as though to cast the thought away
thinking how many faces now
are the same to me
how empty and hungry they are
and I clench my fists against the cold
squint my eyes closed and purse my lips
anything to keep them out
those thousand faces identified
by nothing but their lack of a face
I am haunted always by the way her hair
looked in the wind as she walked away
like feathers on a flying bird

I looked full into the face of love
once
and now I walk blind.
She consumed my soul. Alive.
And left me to live.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

VIsion.

i don't quite dare yet
to curl my fingers around this slight weight
this golden key that rests in my palm
i never thought i would find it again
locked that door and threw it away
closing my eyes and letting the past
take care of its own
let the dead bury their dead
and i will continue you on my weary way
because sometimes only the dead may sleep
the living start too often
from worlds of fantasy that mirror too closely
their waking weary ways
i dare not claim this key 
any more than the pressure of its weight 
against my slender hand demands
in fear that it too will dissipate 
like all thosethings of the past
that i though i had left behind
but here i am
at the face of this golden door
with this key to match
and i'm reading a word i thought i had forgotten
one that i had packed away
to be found by some distant descendant 
and yet here it is for me again
in the center of this plaque 
that invites me to go
home.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Pigeon-eyed.

They walk around and around 
saying
sucking in their breath
-ooh that's a bad break
look at the fractures-
they shake their head
heavily 
like elephants on their steady move
and still they circle
acting out some long delayed grief
with the emotion broken up
by the stilted tongues remembering their lines
and the space taken up by footsteps
and they point with their toes
look at this debris
all these broken pieces
clucking in the back of their throats
as if their disapproval meant something
as if the march was anything but a farce
a tour carried on by the blind

I watched them and wanted to laugh
these old me wandering through the marble shavings
bemoaning the chips of shattered stone
circling and circling
stunned at the waste the damage
while at the center stood
His David

Michelangelo and i we know
that in search of beauty
some things must break and fall
so that strength and grace grow.

Monday, January 19, 2009

Epidemic.

i'll swallow the pills
that grate against my tongue like chalk
cough them down 
even as they leave their pale dust
on my tongue coating it white
leaving it silenced and numb
suffer the sting
of the silver needle sliding
through my shivering skin
and watch you pump the poison in
as long as it gets it all
close my eyes and imagine
it in small grey clouds
bustling through my veins all consuming
swallowing up the strange traces still in my system
and spilling them out in this salt
that i can't seem to stop spewing
and maybe i will finally be pure
be nothing but another collection of cells
and cords of electric impulses
that stumbles through this world 
like the rest of you
sure that this portion of reality
is all that is and all i'll need
please doctor please

you took an oath to make me whole
and you know i can't keep going
with this hole where my heart was
the spaces between my why and because

give me the cure 
give it quick
else doctor i swear
i'll die of homesickness

Sunday, January 18, 2009

In case you had forgotten

i was wondering
if you've ever noticed
that you walk in a cloud of beauty
that the golden air wraps around you
like you are its natural element
that light clings to you
like dew to a leaf
sliding reluctantly down your form
to settle in pools at your feet
and when you step so lightly
it sprays up and up
and against those walking by you
till they too are infused with the glow
and walk on a little lighter
i was just wondering if you've noticed

today you looked as though you didn't know
hiding yourself in that grey hood
sliding your feet against the cement
as though to lift them would risk attention
and that would melt you to the bone
that is how you looked today

i just want to remind you
that you are beautiful.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Patient: Dawn Somna

Can you see me there
stretched against that sliver of white
my head slanted towards the sky
the white tiled sky
my hair is spread out
lending softness to the starkness
that crinkles under the slight shifts
my breath causes
and my fingers are bare
each cresent nail clear
each long palm resting against the other
and they are white too
but for the blue vein
that pulses like a wave on a river
swelling lazily to shore
They are here again
I can hear them though it means nothing
series of sounds that swing through the air
and carry nothing of sense
they say -Look look
how deeply she is sleeping.
how still she is.
look how still she is waiting
how beautiful she is.-
i do not know what they mean
and still they stand there
their eyes heavy against my skin
but i cannot move -neither do i try
they are none of my concern
slowly they leave
one by one
Their shoes scratching against the floor
till the door swings shut

how deeply i am sleeping they say
I still am waiting in this white tower
for you to come one day
free me from this power
of ordinary days and dreams
that tell me everything is what it seems
i closed my eyes once and have not woken since
i will wait centuries for you my prince

we only live
we only love
once.

Friday, January 16, 2009

Kensington Gardens.

i was walking in the park one night
wondering what in this wide world was missing
that hole in the midst of the fabric of my being
where to find the spark that binds these fibers
wandering over these beaten trails
scattering gravel and shadows as i go
thinking over what could be gone
when i heard the weeping
small catches of breath and the sobs
that slide scratchily from the soul
turning aside i searched for the mourner
to see what this sorrow was
i came behind her
from a long way i could see her
in her white dress  that swung with the wind
and i felt that this is someone
i knew when young much younger
but now she is grown
the wind threw her voice to me
oh Peter have you have forgotten?
you have forgotten.
Peter, Peter
look how you stand so still and stone..
and something was tugging at me
a strand of a thought
at my mind some disconnect
between her bare feet and the cold ground
she was standing
some scant inches above the frozen soil
and she was sobbing saying
Peter oh Peter
you have forgotten.
How can you be so cold 
so hard to touch, to turn?
i have waited and wondered
waiting for you to return to me.
Peter, Peter. have you forgotten me?
and she stumbled and sank to the frozen ground 
her white dress crumbling around the icy blades of grass
i ran to see with that voice
so strange so familiar still ringing
in my ears again and again
till reaching her i realized
that this salt streaked face i knew
and i called out girl...girl why are you crying?
she turned
Peter? OH PETER.
i caught her several feet above the ground
and we spun through the winter air
a happy thought
a touch of pixie dust
and you my love

i had not forgotten how to fly
i had forgotten how to find you


Thursday, January 15, 2009

ER

i will build here in my mind
some place of strength
some citadel of silence
that is where i will go to live
i will hang on the wall only watercolours
finding serenity in their softness
in the way they dare
to abstain
from the sharpness of death
and i will sit in stillness and be glad
i will be alone
inside my silent room

the cold touches only my skin
and that red rush is as far as the sky
i am in my quiet mind
till even the beeping goes away
and the world becomes a straight line

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Hold on to me.

welcome to the avalanche
and in this midst of this battering blur
all i can really feel is the cold
among this white haze of faces
there's only one thing of which i'm sure
life is nt a thing which stops
only at the end can we stay
in one place
one place for generations
and even then we are gone
into some vague beyond

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

.

come back come back
my fingers curl convulsively
as if this air
that forces its way into my lungs
i could wrap around you
twisting it tight
and clenching it in my white fist
if i pull hard enough
against these invisible elements
whatever it is pulling you away
would turn you back
would release you one more time
and if i can steal no more than this
another five minutes of light
i will take my punishment well
like a man
but then they walk away
and forget, leaving grief behind
with their old clothes
because to them the road holds
some sort of salve
some saving grace
i shall take the punishment like a woman then
standing on a silent earth
like the other things which grow
and knowing something of what it is
to give the best of you away
does it anyway
and i will take all of this fate's vengeance
her hungry price 
for the tweaking of her threads
in her great tapestry
if only i may steal you back
from her haggard hands
for five minutes more
to taste the smile that comes with hello
for just a while longer

i'm wrapping my hands around this air
hoping it will hold me
when the blur takes your shadow
and theres nothing left but to grow old

Friday, January 9, 2009

to the lost ones i love

fly away.

runaway
thats what they'll say

but we'll know.
you just remembered
where you were meant to go

somewhere in the big beyond
you've vanished
leaving us and a song

so run away
fly away
find your wayhome

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Spring of Being

I'm looking at the streetlights
how they bend over
heavy with the weight of light
how it flickers and throbs
against the dark
like the touch of a childs heartbeat
against your swollen skin
and how your fingers flutter
while he knocks a message to you
through the thick membrane
he says hello
and suddenly they look like trees
to me
or maybe flowers
heavy headed daffodils
waiting for spring to bloom
and then, who knows
maybe this is how stars grow
on a steady diet of sparks
fed through their iron stems
which teaches them to be strong
and when that solar spring arrives
they will shoot across the sky
finding their own cosmos to inhabit
to illuminate and slowly build
a universe of their own

i can see it all
and so i hurry home
to you and little him
who hides still beneath your skin
and i whisper to you the story
of the stars blooming into glory
and you flutter against my fingertips

the day they put you in my arms
i held you up to the sky
and a thousand stars flashed by
leaving the roads dark in the solar spring

Indomitable

the antiseptic stings
sliding down my arm
as if slowly seeping into my skin
it means to turn me
into something new again
and i don't know what else to do
because this is my life in review
you don't check the rearview mirror
because the past will get no clearer
and you ty not to look ahead
because its a blur until you're dead
just stare out the side
watch the telephone poles sweep by
and one day this ride will stop maybe
one day we can all be free
i can spread my heart out in the sun
and let it dry out
and you'll pop up like photographs
and we will stand around and laugh
at how fate thought it could win
how we've beat the map again
because oh they wanted, oh they tried
to scatter on the ocean tide
along these roadmaps and flight plans
but we know that we will win again
and so i smile when she says
it won't hurt a bit
as she slides the needle in
and my world blurs again

welcome to a foreign place
this is your new canvas
your new escape
there is no way home

they can't fool me
i won't forget grace.

when the line breaks down.

i am tired of seeing you trapped
inside this white frame
watching you move slow
choppily as though you are not quite sure
what motion means
or how it should look
you
who above all had that strange grace
the sudden movements of a bird
and its streamlined sense of shadow
now you sit stark against the black
white and still in the face of it
sending garbled messages
that wound something like love
and sound something like help
i am tired of this glass
that does not even do the courtesy of breaking
while i beat against it
does not even crack
in some pretense of my strength
leaves me stripped of even dignity
as i pound against this silicon screen
screaming for some semblance of skin
against my fingertips

nothing will make this better
i'm done with sending love letters
my heart will not beat again
till i, the frozen, can touch your skin

Monday, January 5, 2009

Khom Fai

and i will be the silver flash of fire
streaking across the sky
pretending i am a star
i will fizzle and fall
into the ground
throwing up a spray of earth
like water droplets from a pebble thrown
but i will have that moment of light
lighting up the whole horizon
of being all that you can see
and you could make a wish
that's what you do you know
on falling stars
you close your eyes and find the courage
to throw all your hidden heart into the dark
to be caught in the glow of this foreign thing
and in the midst of the light transformed
into something dripping with reality
that falls back upon you
dangling on these threads of illumination
while the star falls on
thats what i will be today
the wishgiver
as i take a breath and light this fuse
and send myself shining into the sky

Sunday, January 4, 2009

araknaphobic

she is afraid of spiders
the way they move
like the clowns in parades
swinging high above everybody's head
on their thin little legs
pretending that nothing would happen
if they fell 
tripping tumbling like the trees
after they call timber go crashing down
she told me once they reminded her
of puppets
that it looked like their little black bodies
were hanging from their stringy legs
and made her feel
as though maybe they were right side up
and she was the one facing the wrong way to gravity
makes all the blood rush to her head
and stay there till nothing makes sense
and that thats when she screamed
when the ceiling became the floor
and you weren't there anymore
but a stranger standing at the door
and turning and walking away
she said thats what she remembers most
why the spiders scare her
when you left that day
you threw open the door and the sun came in
lighting up the top of your head
like a halo, an avenging angel
and stretched across the frame
glistening in the midst of its tiny threads
was a black spider
hanging upside down while the room spun
and she fell

she's afraid of spiders 
but she cries in the night for you

maybe that's the difference
between fear and love
the one makes gravity your enemy
and the other centers gravity in him