A sampling of some of the poetry I’ve written over the years.
depression, explained
a price tag
left on the floor
of an abandoned store,
faded paper umbrellas
in a shabby shop,
the plop
of rusty water in a crazed sink,
the slick of grease
on kitchen tile,
the stink
of boxwood after rain, the pain
of a hangnail,
cracked
concrete in an empty pool,
a tattered fairy costume,
the despair
of an orange chair
in a dingy waiting room.
PAPER WORLD
In a gold star world where the stars are foil
Pasted on paper, stuck to themselves in a string
Of bravos, their fire contained
Within five points, please —
In a paper heaven world where you hang yourself
On a pin, to prove you shine like all
Heavenly bodies — your gilt surface neatly complete
With painted reflections,
There’s not enough space, no place
For any natural fire.
GEMMA 46 — a Pantoum
It’s difficult to know what’s really mine,
The hands, the hair, all carbons of another,
A double helix split to redefine
The child, a twin to her own mother.
The hands, the hair, all carbons of another,
Not one detail missed in fabrication –
The child, a twin to her own mother,
A hostage to eternal obligation.
Not one detail missed in fabrication,
But for every moment I draw breath
A hostage to eternal obligation,
A mirror never meant to reflect death.
But for every moment I draw breath
I’m something more than you and less than whole,
A mirror never meant to reflect death –
The destiny of every mortal soul.
I’m something more than you and less than whole,
A double helix split to redefine
The destiny of every mortal soul –
It’s difficult to know what’s really mine.
NIGHT LIGHTS
Stars blossom
In the rich loam
Of a deepening sky.
You lift your face
To the heavens.
Lower your eyes.
In a dew-tipped meadow
Fireflies dance
Like those suns above.
I will not speak
In the void
And vastness
Of space.
But in the leaf
And hummingbird.
ON THE EVENT HORIZON
May those brave few who venture in this space
Speed on —
as lucid and as swift as light
from your margins and the enslaving might
of your singularity, your core grace.
For those who have been pulled in your embrace
encounter nullity —
it is their plight
to circle and to spin in endless flight,
trajectories that cross and interlace.
Elusive as the heart of a black hole,
a nothingness that nothing can evade,
your nature is to lure
then thrust aside.
Yet you are doomed to pay the greater toll —
Trapped in a vacuum no one dare invade,
you are the absence born of love denied.
THE KITE
The wind will blow as it will,
And whenever the wind blows, there my kite goes
Yearning, straining against the string.
Tiny tugs, tentative as fish nibbling, never taking
The line, and I stand still;
Shading my eyes against a blinding sun,
The string still wrapped
Tautly about my hand — thinking
That this kite
Might make a sudden solo flight,
And I might see whose pull is stronger.
TWILIGHT SONG
Thin shadows gobble up the grass,
The sun tumbles into the sea,
Things are stalking other things,
Come home — come, and be safe with me.
Black vines may scratch against the glass,
But all my panes are locked too tight,
So you may close your eyes at last,
For I can see you through the night.
Your hands may rest, held tight in mine,
While in your dreams you will fly free,
And if day breaks before you wake,
I’ll toss the sun back in the sea.
WISHING WELL
On any star, with every penny,
Wishes wing like Pegasus —
Beggars can’t be choosy
As to time and place.
Not just first stars, not only wishing wells,
Inspire the lost and the lonely —
Absence often tends to make
Their hearts grow foolish.
Time, and tides, and all that glitters
You may sweep along with you.
I’ll just keep on wishing
To cease this weeping,
There’s plenty of salt in the sea.
LOST
Wandering
the labyrinth without
a ball of twine,
No crumbs
in the pocket
in a dark,
dark wood.
No compass, no sextant,
no X
marks the spot,
Chronometers split
in two, maps
ripped.
Charts faded,
crumbled
Rosetta stone.
Astrolabes
sunk to the floor
off the sea,
Stars swaddled in clouds,
Sun doused by rain.
The white
rabbit
turns
the corner –
Disappears.
THE GARDEN PATH
A spider web strung across the path
Silver and gold, it will not hold
You, it was not spun for you. Walk on through.
The sun is rising there, on the edge
Of the garden wall, as I recall
You dream of light like the sunflowers, turning
This way, turning that way, turning away.
You turned from me, did you believe
I was too cool to warm you? It is true
I am not so hot as the sun, not so constant,
Nor so easy to find. I don’t mind
The choices made, but if you had stayed
One moment more, you may have seen me, one step
Closer, one step back, one step away.
COMMITTED TO MEMORY
The leaves are never silent when they fall
Sound fills the forest, a steady spill of sound
Like water over stone. If you could but hear it
You would understand the trees
Do not let go so easily, do not release
Their hold without a murmur. Neither will I
Release your hand without protest.
You will not leave in silence
When you leave. When you leave
A steady spill of tears will sound
Like water over stone
If you could but hear it.
FIREBIRD
The Phoenix, burdened with centuries of pain
Seeks oblivion. Yet, struggling within,
Defeats itself and flies from its desire,
Rises, reborn — to live, to die, again.
Always alone, the Phoenix makes its choice,
Embraces once more the pain that purifies;
Glimpses the future form through present fires,
To create life anew each time it dies.
With Manet in the Café
Clink of glasses, smiles,
A red dress, and a white
Glove wraps a silver cane.
WALK ABOUT
I.
The sun is drifting above the mountains like a pearl
Freed from its shell, lifted on the waves,
Tossed above the blue-edged crests, to float
Up into the sky, the morning sun,
Not yet too bright to look upon.
Soon, soon to gather its colors into itself,
And burn through the quilted clouds, burn through,
Burn free, and burn so bright
That the world will turn away – the world and I
Must look away, yet still remain
Wrapped in the light.
II.
I have seen the sky split and the light spill through,
The light of heaven, seen briefly, from below –
A waterfall which pours pure gold upon my face,
And sharpens all the edges of my shadow.
III.
No need to look up, to look up for the sun –
The sun shines down
Before me, and I may watch
It play across the fallen leaves that lie ahead
On this path, I can see
Where it is shining. Where the trees above
Have leaned aside
The sun has found a window
I can look ahead, all about me,
And see where it is shining.