Wednesday, August 21, 2013
Treeclimb
Pine like a flea for flesh,
Flag for our limbs to mesh,
Friction fries to death
We, who fear of feeling left
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Symmetrying
As a crooning caress, a tranquil touch,
a nudge splitting wide what couldn’t be budged:
pry free the frills of my fragile, latent bloom;
crack dawn for the flame that aims to reach noon
an adroitly shaped mold wiggling an ethereal groove,
dignified, humble, profoundly accepting of mood.
ignited in spirit, voracious in mind
a placid tempest; a benign land mine
laughing up time like life eats light,
whole as the day that’s a part of the night
simple as mud, but one and aware of the multitude, myriad things,
wide as the ocean; astringently crisp and mineral rich
as the skin cleaving mist it brings
loyal as the tide that pursues the eschewing coast.
with Eden’s love, and Heaven’s might
draws courage to deny the bottomless ego’s boast,
careful with words, and watchful of the way she weaves the world inside
the quirky twitch in her nose is my sagacious will’s captor
as a storm rumbling through in an undulating rapture,
for her to fill form, to soak what I see,
I must turn around, and reflect her in me
Thursday, November 4, 2010
i saw it in their backyard
so light as an Eidolon,
a beast with a torso like fire trembles;
a ribbon flailing in the gale,
a contortionist; scalp touching spine.
a beast with a torso like fire trembles;
a ribbon flailing in the gale,
a contortionist; scalp touching spine.
it's time under heaven
why must summer violets die,
why do the petals yellow?
is there one unwilted leaf
to set between the pages we stopped reading on?
is there anything save hope,
that would allow the winter months
a chance to do what they never do?
under snow, can a violet grow,
into the shape of you?
is there a prayer i'll see your face,
emerging from the melting flakes?
or is it too far-fetched to think,
i'll be greeted by else than necrotic stink?
the part of me that has a hold
says wait, grow, pray.
don't plant the seed 'till may.
why do the petals yellow?
is there one unwilted leaf
to set between the pages we stopped reading on?
is there anything save hope,
that would allow the winter months
a chance to do what they never do?
under snow, can a violet grow,
into the shape of you?
is there a prayer i'll see your face,
emerging from the melting flakes?
or is it too far-fetched to think,
i'll be greeted by else than necrotic stink?
the part of me that has a hold
says wait, grow, pray.
don't plant the seed 'till may.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Ode to 'A'
Almost as an alligator
ascending after Alice with
an aim of saying "ate," and
an apex unaltered in
appropriate, capital attention
almost as though Ala
accelerates with authority to
attain the attributes atoning
for it's absence from the alphabet.
Alpha's always betar, and
awkward announcements are
all that utter after.
ascending after Alice with
an aim of saying "ate," and
an apex unaltered in
appropriate, capital attention
almost as though Ala
accelerates with authority to
attain the attributes atoning
for it's absence from the alphabet.
Alpha's always betar, and
awkward announcements are
all that utter after.
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