Categories
Poetry

The Wheel Attributed to Fortune Personified

Another street scene, another walk at midnight.
A sound like the color of fire,
shifting, breaking, flowing back togetherÑ
Love whispering its cough beneath a grate.
Were you there, somewhere teasing the darkness,
the muscle joints in him? Were you, dusting off
the shade, pulling down the lamp, dressing by
taking off your clothes, withdrawing into fuck?
Did time run this way?

Truth is no commodity with me,
It never was.
For all I said, honesty would never
have sufficed—
it brought no cure, not then and it
does not now.
Everything must be gotten elsewhere.

love no passion

The Emblem of Mutability

(sweet) fuck all

Categories
Poetry

Trump

He is the king of a rain-country, rich
but sterile, nothing but an old wolf’s itch,
one who escapes his tutor’s monologues,
and kills the day in boredom with his clubs;
nothing cheers him, golf, Fox News, McDonald’s,
his people dying by the balcony;
the bawdry of the sycophantic staff
no longer gets him through a single night;
his bed of fleur-de-lys becomes a sodden tomb;
even the lady of the court, for whom
even this king is bountiful, cannot put on
shameful enough dresses for this grotesque;
the weasel who makes his gold cannot invent
sleights of hand to obscure the poisoned element;
even with fiddles and fires, Rome’s legacy,
our tyrants’ solace in senility,
he cannot warm up his bloated corpse, whose glaze
is nuclear orange ooze, not skin.

Categories
Poetry

Celestial Halo

With this her new crown of thorns,
The White Goddess shrugs off some of men and dominion
To reclaim all of birth, love and death.

Categories
Poetry

Arrival

Motes of fire in your voice
And the embers of your eyes
Animal warmth
Burnished gold

On the first night we met
I was immediately adrift
And quickly lost
Coming home

You are what love means
A low door in the wall to
Another world
New and familiar

Sly and radiant as your
Flashing smile and tender flesh
Welcome then
Magically gone

Categories
Poetry

A Running Between

Our hands begin to see;
Our teeth grow soft and slip
easily back into the gum.
Bodies, like suspended drops
inverted, dip to each other;
Petals tender as rose burn.
A heavy bell swings to
sound and stops
while frozen on the skin
sleep dark-holding moves
a wet machine, dilated,
trembling at verge.

Categories
Poetry Uncategorized

[A writer finds he has no words]

A writer finds he has no words
for what is rising in his gorge,
that he wears small pieces of the dead
like jade rings in his body.
Once held to cure side pains,
the stones, like so many things,
are now mere ornaments.
So too with words, some precious
symbols lying in dormition,
dying in their sleep. He longs
for the soft, greasy touch of pigments,
seminal virtue; he imagines paper
like hair, a distillate. The page
must open like the lidded flesh.
The mandala is an imperfect symbol,
and this novena must end.

Categories
Poetry Uncategorized

Got the Drop

Half empty, another shot;
Half serious, love and anger;
Half a loaf, life a little less
Late at night before the fight
I know is always coming.
Where do we go from here
Is always the question
And the mindless, meaningless
Answer as the pendulum
Makes it’s dumb arc marking
Nothing but time and tides
That will never decide while
Eating away at the ground
Beneath our shuffling feet.
Personal best, pressure drop,
Drinking and sleeping alone
And walking on the empty
Sidelines of your own life.

Categories
Poetry Uncategorized

Love

Isn’t solid ground
Or a bar of gold
Or an Oracle
The Song of Songs
Is an empty bell
And a rose is just a rose

Categories
Poetry Uncategorized

Fighting for breath

In a house full of open doors
One closing feels like an blindfold
Full of noise and no time for sleep
Sitting alone after midnight
Listening to you breathe careless
Dreamless dark distances fill the room
This part isn’t love it isn’t anything
But disappointment and solitude
In the promised land broken and lost
With nowhere to rest and fighting

Categories
Poetry Uncategorized

Sleep & Dreams

When you return tonight
Slow tired and warm with caresses
And kisses I’ll sleep alone
Apart from your crowded voices
And mad loves’ abandon

This tempest tosses my mind
Like a lost wing and loses my way
In the flittering dark
And the slow black below like
An ocean of still divers