monday

silver crescent

delicate rim

the earth's shadow

caused only to dim

the beauty to grey for a short while

but given the cycles I know I will smile

just as your grin that hangs in the night

things once upside down must be put right

Maundy Maundy

I can’t forget anything
You remember nothing
Broken finger twisted and swollen
Feeling nothing
Broken heart empty and decaying
Terrible aching
On the night in which our Lord was betrayed
He gave this command...

He was worried about us
The ones who abandoned Him
Me

I would deny you again
I would run away every time
That is why I am here
With my toes chained to the ground
With silver threads
As fine as spider’s silk

She dropped to the ground
But I found her
And caught her up with deadly force
Broken body still and lifeless
Enviously peaceful

There is something beautiful in sleep
I am impressed- exclamation point
Or was it “that’s impressive”
Words I will never see
Words I will never hear
Except where I make them happen
Dreaming of their popping up in my inbox
On my desktop
Well done my good and faithful one
Tell me I am good
Just this once

A foot washer
You cleaned the slate
Tore apart-me-nt from the inside out
Don’t break the glass!
I beg in hurried prayer
So you take the roof
I am feeling light-headed now
Lessons in low pressure
Lesions on our feet

My back was sore
And you kept me awake
I didn’t want to pray that way
I didn’t want to say the things you made me say
But I said them anyway
I waited till the tree was gone
To scream “RUN!”

It is my job to protect
To watch to guard
To get the timing exactly right
I move by intuition
I am not bound by choreography
You speak and I rise or fall
On your command

I am looking for direction
Something more than
“Have you done this before?”
No, I am lost
Can you not tell?
“You show no nervousness”
As I twist the blue cap tightly on the neck
To the point of making it impossible to reopen
This is not my water
It was meant for someone holy
An angel with shining golden hair
That falls smooth and straight
Catching and tossing light

A princess by a pool

Waiting for Jeremiah
I swear she is Southern
Northern girls aren’t blonde

I too am light, yes?
You can pick me up effortlessly
But do I understand your sighs?

Though light

I am mostly shadow
A glacier under half moonlight
I glow on the surface
But there is a depth
Of which you are afraid

Napping
Capturing a simple moment
For such a complex woman
You try to understand
And cage that curled beast in your heart
But don’t you know she will beat those bars
And tear herself against them
Until she once again falls into a peaceful sleep
Brought on by the exhaustion of tears and torments

Rolling
Rolling
The thunder
Rolling
Rolling
The tears
Rolling
Rolling
The rock on which I built my house
Plymouth- ply mouth
And George Washingtons crispy in my mouth
Lightly dressed in an evening vinaigrette
And served after we remember the joy of sacrifice
Surrounded by tears
Hard boiled hippies
Just waiting for a chance to be delivered
And wrapped in the warmth of a scottish pig
And served with frothy beer and a side of tv
But now it is raised cups
And “Baruch atah Adonai”s

I taste the maror
Solomon says it is sweet
He is always contradicting
Pushing buttons
And blowing up the world
Just so he can dig up fossils
And ponder what was once alive

Elephants are endangered
Wrap them in flags
And stuff them till they are cartoonishly large
Listen to them shout
AM preacher-like
But what is it that they are saying?
Where is the Roman Road?
They are blaming the Donkeys
Who carried their belongings out of Egypt
Strike the rock once
And the water will flow
Speak to the rock
But things don’t always go as planned
I left my Britta filter
And the heat is unbearable
And the whining has me broken
Like this crushed finger
And this swirling cloud that destroys
Yet compels me follow
In its wake
We strike a second time
The water flows in mercy
And we strike over and again

Believing the water will never run out

I have seen greater things
I have seen mountains moved
But what had that to do with faith
Today- I cannot be still and know
Today- I do not understand

My assassin name is Deep Sleep
My Bondage uniform is a zip up; one piece; fuzzy

Footed pair of pyjamas
With scarf-wrapped penguins playing in a field the blue of sky
Ironic

Not only because penguins cannot fly

Let me walk to school in my robe
Unbrushed and free
Like Crazy Ball Square Tourettes Man
Let me be free and unjudged
Let me shrug off the mores
The taboos that have me bound
Let me seek you
Wherever you may be found
Find me
And let us dance
Though my feet are pierced
I will drag my cross to you
And I will smile under the burden I bear in love
“Why do you come here if it makes you sad?”
My hands are full of the nothing
That I took from you
And I wish there were a better way to say
Because I love you.

wanderland

no pictures and no interesting conversation
have left me dumb and my heart's desires moot
now darkness has finally overtaken the sun
and it's time for a painful uproot
I'll pick the corn from my pilgrim's teeth
with splinters of the bones crushed beneath your feet
and I think it is nice how I've learned from you
a most dismal hope in things I never knew
but alice knew as she followed her fate
that though the clock stops time does not wait
and beheadings will happen like it or not
and lovely thoughts tumble into the basket to rot

New Hampshire Haiku

High tide cold ocean
Visiting and retreating
Blue waves warm goodbye

Dedicated to my dear friend Chyela who knows how to warm even the coldest day.

Study: A Portrait in Words

She had never left Tennessee. She was, in fact, quite unremarkable. Though she had the potential to be interesting she had not amounted to much of interest. It was noticeable in her conversation which she could not carry very far just as she had never carried herself beyond her imagined borders. She was always aware of those thick black lines that were astonishingly invisible in the satellite photos.They were on every map she had studied as a child. There was Tennessee all cheery green and around it the sick-sweet candy shades of Kentucky, North Carolina, Alabama and Mississippi accompanied by the arid desolated yellows and oranges of Georgia, Virginia, Arkansas and Missouri. Surely they were beautiful states with charm enough, but still there was that black border that teased her. She would never get past it, but did she really want to cross those barren and Pepto Bismol lands to find what lay on the other side?

She found it extremely difficult to be any place where she could see more than a mile in any direction, especially in front of her. When driving the interstate she would rise out of the valley and onto the plateau; the land would slip away toward the west ahead of her. And just as she rose above the mountain, in her breast rose an urgent compulsion to rush to the horizion, that forward pressing horizon. No matter how fast she flew towards it, she seemed never to move. One hundred miles per hour became 35mph, and she was back in the neighborhood watching for children, balls, bikes and cocker spaniels. Is that why car commercials always show the new models zipping up curving mountain roads? No horizon visible to keep the speeding car standing still. Always a game of chance, the driver never knowing what to expect, anticipating each curve? Therein lies the skill of driver and the beauty of a man connected to machine. In the neighborhood is a similar game of chance at play? Impure chance as she pretended never to know what to expect and so could delight to have a ball roll across the road as much as to pull into the driveway with nothing in the way except the leaves falling gently from the yellow and orange trees.

She had never become much of anything interesting for the very reason that she had the potential to be interesting. No matter how fast she moved toward that potential it rushed away into the distance. When she tried to get to who she was, she found herself farther and farther from home. Why chase an ever changing unknown horizon when she could have the premeasured joy of expected chance. In this way she was always assured of coming home to nestle between the hills, content to enjoy her carefully constructed green terrarium. safe inside the lines. puzzling over the places on the map created by the candy coloured leaves scattered across the grey driveway.

July 4, 2004 rediscovered

motorcycle

fast you fly up mystic ave.
i watch from the safest place I have
and wonder as i desire your speed
if true love really is only a need
a quiet quivering thrill that rumbles my chest
at the thunder of your motor's eager unrest

skeletons separated by leather and skin
hungry to blur the lines between sacred and sin
american crosses, angels from hell
tender beating heart inside a frail shell
denying how very fragile you are
invisible invincible you race through the cars
forgetting those fading memories and scars

body crouched over your bright holy steed
i'd give anything to know just how to read
the mind hidden behind that mysterious mask
surely you have answers to all the questions i ask
but my words are lost in the wind’s rush and roar
and i join the rest of the-motionless in a colourful blur

not the third street washeteria

I have learnt the secret to staunching the tears
DEHYDRATION

I wait, listening to the drums spinning
I imagine the rhythmic thumping to be a child’s rubber soled shoe
No need to worry
My soul is labelled non-marking
I will leave no trace of where I have rubbed against your empty cask

How small can a heart shrink?

I call it “strength”
But I know the truth
Constant bumping against the Great Wall
Has caused callouses to grow
Hard, protective, disfiguring

My school colours were black and blue
I wear the bruises under my smile
Occasionally they tumble to the surface of my eyes
Bloated and bloody
But the crescent streak of bleach suffices to distract from the stains

It started out the size of my fist.

When the the door bursts open
With a pop
And comforting sigh of hot air
I observe what is left

I stuff my wilted pebbles back into their sockets
And this blackened lump inside my chest

I call my mother
She still cries
She doesn’t know why
She thinks the tears fall because she has lost a daughter
But I was gone long ago

I left to drain the fluids
And I have been spinning ever since