|
we
stood inside of possibility,
as
mirrored beings gazing into familiar eyes,
waiting for the right moment
to
shake the sable sky wit..
|
|
There
is poetry within me --
my
midnight visualizations echo rivers,
like
the blood-letting of words flowing
through
corridors of lo..
|
|
The
pen is dry --
a
stately wisp of a thing,
unable
to write even the simplest
of words, images, lines.
In
this cathedral of ..
|
|
Bone
white walls, gunmetal gurneys
like
serving trays on spinning wheels,
blood
and sweat-- don’t forget the tears --
and
the ..
|
|
Seasons
come and go like visitors
never
truly unpacking their bags --
Summer
is dressed in the same shift until
she
bids farewell, as..
|
|
This
eve
water
freezes in jagged patterns
on
windows I keep fixed firm,
when
the smoke-curl of darkness
raps
with her corpse-hand..
|
|
diving
beneath, under and after,
below
the surface, but above the bottom --
I
am trapped in the middle a paradox of pondering:
all
t..
|
|
Who
has seen the moon rise
as
a tissue paper seraph singing
ballads
of brevity to a sky suffused
with orphaned stars?
I
have ..
|
|
close
your eyes as the sealing of shutters
when
night falls in slick sonnets about this place
cast
aside your supplication save it fo..
|
|
this
morning is the placid eye
in
the center of a sudden torrent,
and
I stand within the womb
professing symbolic resistance
a..
|
|
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