Poems May 2010

I am under and deep down
The path I am going to walk
Away from the house, the responsibilities
Are spread out amongst us
There is a traitor, and there must be an investigation
Into the causes
These problems which keep coming back
Home
Please come back home

Hugs in the chapel
While the minister checks his credentials
And cleans his stamp
And in walks some Elvis, or some Marilyn
Across some bridge of sighs or the other
And down the stairs to the rooms where they shoot the prisoners

100 days away
From winds that blow happiness away and freedom in
I'm too scared to walk
Barely able to talk
My hand mute, merely holding the pen and more to the point: will sorry go or invite its cousins over to weigh down life and render nights so lonely

Two trees
Fell together in the aftermath of the rain
Two tables, two closets
Two things made of the wood
Two trees miles apart
Two band-aids
Too long ago to be remembered
Two, long ago forgotten
Too forgotten
Two - long ago.

I'll climb the mountains of my own making
Diving off into pools of my own tears
And wander with snakes and eels and other things

Too many glasses of wine or beer
Or things that go bump in the heart
Or things that climb out of your mouth
And climb in my ears
Drip down my legs into a shallow hole
A grave situation

It is not three little words I need
But sentences full, paragraphs
From you
They will never come
But a drizzle of rain
Will mist in my eyes
And I will cry the tears of some guy in a desert pitching into the mud of an oasis
And then stumbling on seeking the shore of the ocean
Sentences like crashing breakers
Telling of a history of me I never knew
From someone I thought not watching

today tonight
I love hate whatever you're about
whenever you're around
it hurts it's good
planes roar o'er the house
I'm stuck stuck
on the ground looking up

be the start of something new
and beautiful
Too long now ... deep breath
Too long now this has been allowed to go on
Since the time of the pharoes
First grade...
Seventh grade at some school dance
Switches were installed and no love has yet been an amputator
A physic
And we dream of alchemy
To the end
A toast!
To the end.

Play evil
Play evil on my bones
Play evil on my bones all the days
All the days
All the days that remain for me
For me and my bones
My sad old bones
My sad old lonely bones
All the days

All the days that remain all the days
All the days that remain

Fate tied her to a tree
Left her there like forgotten fruit
When the two strange men walked by
There weren't even tears enough to cry
And the moon does a dance on the pond, on the roof
While the clouds play havoc with the view
Cloud like tears
Tears like wondering
Snow like sand
Sand like stars
Stars above like fish in the sea
Stars like love no stars for me

I soak and read about Edvard Munch
As the night slides out from under me and the rain patters down
And hours wrinkle my skin
My eyes fail to focus
As the clock reached a hand towards one
And the rain patters down.

The space of the studio
Filled and empty
With walls open to the universe
Accessed through a broken garage door.

Is it done?
Is she finished?
Is the mom like her daughter?
Are they of similar texture
Or is one smooth, the other rough?
And is it paint or character,
My mistake or divine communication which I obey but can I remember hearing?

I droop like a wet forest
And drip down my branches onto myself
Tired in the spring after a savage winter

Girls and their mom stare at me
Not a good stare

A stare that makes me wonder if they think I'm foreign

On this shore
The distant land of the mall waits

Belted down for the duration
Spelling bigger words
Swimming with dolphins
Caring for the wounds
Two miles from bigger things and 10 years from fully bloomed
But never can take a long time to prove itself correct

Walking around the corner
Near the noisy cars
I expect to see you again
A ghost, a visitor, a beloved stranger
Or cropping up in old home movies
Or in the corner of an ad
A quizical smile
As we try to figure each other out
And you go as quickly as summer rain
And I forget you as I make change or eat ice pops on the porch as the sun goes down and the heat simmers on the street

It is of no account
No philosophy can take you as far down the path as you need to go
No companion or running partner can come with you
No decision will be right or wrong
No outcome correct, wanted or anticipated
All there is for you is an interior shaking of the head
and shapeless guilt as you wander between what you've done and what could have been

Things that never come back
Regardless of prayers on your knees
Or self-righteous anger
Or pleadings to the still living
The still beating heart
Doesn't hear