assasin

There are some whose words stir me:
Mark Helprin my unknowing mentor.
Solomon Grundy my unknown friend.

---
For your words
I still brave space
And find I am not disappointed
To arrive at the dissolution
Of your thoughts to paper
I gather them up
Reading the maps you've drawn
And prepare for myself the second coming
Unholstering my weapons
For once again, I am aware—
A shooting star
In its very failing
Its falleness, its falling
Is far more interesting
Than the brightest, most steadfast point of light
Ever will be
To the naked
Eye of the beholder

I am beholden!

overcome

Got a bit of a Coen Brothers feeling today.
Revisited and revised an old write.

---
I bought a gun,
A great big one,
To kill the monster beneath my bed.

"Oh! please come!
Let's have some fun!"
Is what the terrible beasty said.

But I was done
With the lying son,
And that's just what I said.

He tried to run
From my great big gun;
So I blew off his head.

(There are some
This may stun—
That I preferred the finality of lead.)

I destroyed all his forms
Till there were none
Then watched him as they bled.

But when it was done,
When I had overcome,
I found I missed the dreams he'd read.

And in the sun
I dropped the gun,
And a shroud about him spread.

Now all alone
I sit and mourn
That all my fears are dead.

a winter's drive in may

I drive alone in the dark
With the satellites all turned off
Weary treads lie coiled on my shoulders
Stubborn refuse stranded
And the soft whispered swish of tires
Echoes the crush of this empty weight in my chest

Twenty-three hours and counting
I am later than I have ever been
And I imagine you
Clicking at the counter
How is it that you like your Gin

I’ve fallen through more cracks than you’d remember
I can’t recall every window where I’ve stood and listened in
But I keep retracing all the moments that lead to your doorstep
Do you ever regret not inviting me in

Each unbottled bubble
Hisses a satisfied pop
To tinkling teeth like icecubes
As it sizzles to the top
A fraction of a second’s pleasures
Before you quench your thirst in measures
You measure in inches
You measure in miles
But the distance between us
Could be folded closed with a smile

How much litter lines this road
I travelled to get from there to here
"Not worth it" so you say
The things I could lose along the way
But I can do without socks and cap
As long as I keep my soul intact

But the toll is multiplying
The longer I keep driving

Slower than a speeding bullet
I will eventually understand
But for now
I whip my tangerine dream
Through the drizzle and haze
I keep an 18” low profile
And avoid the pitfalls and potholes
More gracefully than the assholes
Because I know a bad penny will keep turning up
Heads up
Chin up
Look up

It is always December

I wish upon my bleeding heart
Before I cross the line one more time

amaranthine imbalance (an exile)

Yesterday my horoscope read:

Scorpio Horoscope for February 22, 2010

Uncertainty and shifting grounds can mark the day's outcomes, and confidence may retreat in the face of a challenge. Confrontation is the wrong game to play, but pulling out entirely is equally unsuitable. Take judicious compromise now and the resulting situation will improve, but don't chase diminishing returns.

And it couldn't have been more accurate... Oh the shifting surfaces! It is a dance that is difficult to master

---
chasing a diminishing return,
chasing my own stinging tail,
digging a rut in the garden of eden
all to no avail.
I know I'll just keep spinning,
pretending I will prevail,
because the future is uncertain
even as it's happening once again;
and the delusion of asserted will is a comfort
as I dance fight the choreographed end.
and the fruit from the tree is now dropping
on the trembling, shifting sand
while my kisses, more than retreating footsteps,
cause earthquakes where they land.
the forbidden tastes I gather
as I move in vertical lines
are very hard to swallow,
and I am running out of time.
so grab once more for my hand.
take me back to that eternal spring.
let the clocks be smashed and silent.
only let the furrows ring.
flood them with the tears of tomorrow
that my memories may grow
behind the amaranthine angel who guards them
row upon copper row.

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

12 years after the tornado. Holy Week.

I am wishing I could prep St. Elmo Pres for Good Friday. I remember the thorns that I was pulling from my skin for over a month afterwards. This year... Elijah- get in here and take off that slicker and those boots! I need a bit of help preparing... scrambled brain and mashed finger are the only items on the passover menu so far...

---
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