i, poet...
want you to
Clip this poem and save it.
Hold it next to
All other poems:
This poem is
A cremation ground where
We ignite, become boundless, and
Dissolve.
The words and
Spaces between words
Have kept quiet company
With elements:
Water, fire, stone and blood...
But liberation
Is on the breath.
On this page
Your deepest Truth
Crosses the stream
To find your mercy.
Unity
Is the path and the destination.
You, witness
And i, poet
Breathe together...


...




if it was you, who with a dream
conjured that flaming ball
to end our night so softly
while we lay here in a tangle
you did it as an artist would;
in slow gradient from purple to gold...
and if i let you sleep you may
create symphonies: the muffled hum
of the world beneath virgin whitefall
the chattering of snowbirds singing awake
the narcissus & daffodil;
icicles dripping...
but if i wake you with kisses...


...



concentrated gravity
forms in pockets near icy stairs
and treacherous places, reconciling
its lack otherwheres:
the hovering mist, the flights
of birds, walks on water...
a poet's heart, which has no fear
having merged rhythmically with the
purest speech of the soul

...and gravity mimics time
which collects in rush hour traffic
and waiting for the other shoe to fall
piles of it accompany boredom
but thins here and there: an
afternoon in the forest
and nights beneath dark heaven
and within the cavernous expanses
of my heart
when i am near you
most beloved...

Love exists out of time,
obeys no law...





Al Dente
Cio Cio San sings
while distracted eyes dart
around our affection
in the darkened opera house
the man sitting next to you
shifts himself, feigning to ignore
the radiant heat of our bodies
I glide your fingers
into my sighing mouth
and your mouth sighs back
...





love desires nothing more
than to be swam in, drunk of
to lie in bed with you
and hear your secrets
whispered between
cyclical events:
turnings of planets
beats of your heart
stages of emergence
of winged young from
speckled eggs
and falling of leaves...
love longs to hum back
making space for
everything else which collapses
then reopens again:
galactic collisions
giving birth





flamenco
hot flow
in the belly
surging
i move
through space
my lips counting
your finger taps
and one
my eyelids draw
like shades
anticipate
your next strum
a two and
your thighs pause
hot against
a note
a surge of lava
to feel the three way down low
and to make me feel it
delicious in my spine
i sigh, melt
open to your
flowering
cadenza
you play
me
i dance
i am

a chocolate covered cherry
bit open and
dripping
in your mouth






loose
speech attends his
myopic and sudden
love, amid speculations
and the
uplit glass of
whatever
he's having...
as he sprawls
a practiced relaxation
i watch him grope
his alcohol,
his deisre
and the word
beachhouse
several times...
i had waited for signs
through dinner
he might breathe
deeper
be alive, say
something
poetic, real or at least
tragic before closing
the tab in a
rush to
the finish line:
clutch it
stick it in
gear, drive
me home baby...

nope.

the quiet
cool shaft
of driver's side air
is often more promising
penetrating
more luscious
more satisfying
and calls me to unleash
my hair...

...


years later
i trace the coordinates
of your life with my eye
having poured
through volumes
of myself...
since then.





gamelan
velvet trepidation embarks
unsacrosanct and
oblivious to anything but
the deluge between her thighs
monsoon season
low throbbing drum cajoles
and the dinging and singing
of sweaty processions in the dirt road
beside the hut
where she turns lazy tricks
for love offerings from gurus
whose countenances
smack of concealed lust, and
who reek of shit and mosquito repellent.

she just flares her nostrils
dances out into the street and away
simple and raw
a door unhinged
mad with life
singing with the orchestra
in the road
about the death of her child
not yet a woman
longing to be submerged in that swollen river
again and again and again





untitled
from the depths
of the most wanton silence
i shall emerge snakelike
from beneath fairy tales spun
and whispers of indecency
fevered, with flower petals
stuck to my smooth skin
with sex and spit and mud
undulating and wild




tracking, as i rise,
the nonsensical nature
of words to cue
reactions of similar
weightlessness.
they only leave trails
of untied shoelaces
behind me...
you tie them
however you please
and that's good too.
we'll be too
enamoured of flying
to think about
shoes much anyway
eventually.





i seep through fissures into her song
emerging through flames to catch
solace that embraces distance...
until there is no distance.

a swift gentle movement through the veil
and we swing up mathematically
with language to clothe the sky with sparkles
...and are overcome with gratitude
at having found our mirror-selves




speculum
in this vulnerable pose
i have time to count ceiling dots
pondering the coldness of metal
and a thousand other things...
a strange time-out
how charged these office walls are
with forms we have carried here
in our unique flower bowls
meticulously hidden - all our creations
our lovers, our progeny, our violations...
here in this room, by the light, inspected
exposed to our total awareness
i blink and lose my count...





...
the darkness,
the yin persists all by itself
if there is nothingness, the
dark is there...
the lone firefly summons purpose
from the depths of his aloneness
sparks himself and
is seen
gliding through night
blinking his welcome to another light

and the night is all around her too,
an infinite sea of the subconscious
unmanifest, unknown
the darkness will always be there...

as a young boy (a new spark) tells me
in his poetic observations of dark:
'when you walk in the midday sun...
the dark is there - on the soles of your feet.
the dark is patient.'

he knows his deepest Truth already
that his light penetrates the darkness
he knows his aim is drawing other fireflies
and welcomes them
to spark themselves in turn




arched
nevermind that i could absorb
aeons of silence, and not shatter it
with the vernacular of complaint

and nevermind that i could fly
through the city, and unseen
dissolve into a stranger's breath
linger on tender lips like prayer
to taste deeply a moment of
shared mortality

and nevermind that i could dance
emptiness to its ecstatic core
and hold myself wide open to each
small fatal collapse in circles
of rhythmic footfall on concrete floor...

nevermind that i existed completely
before that beautiful moment
my heart arched up, transparent
and gave itself to you
...





restless at 2 a.m.
<turning over.>
yesterday and the day before
crouch to pounce on tomorrow and the next day, and the next

and i'm spinning them into orange and red
and twisting them together like a rope
for some task unformed...
then the rope frays and
i blink away from thoughts, distracted

into a train of new ones and look
at the clock again 2:01

i could run straight up the mountain for miles
behind my house, all the way up
and scream at the bloody moon
sturdy and perpetually defiant in her cool station
MOVE ON