Impalpable
August 11, 2014
Neruda’s ” impalpable ash”
Chants away/
In the fray of my own tiny ruins.
.
“If I touch/ near the fire/
Impalpable ash..”
Chimes away/
And supports the clearing away all
Insubstantial,
Makes way to take less blinding steps away
From cave to climax
I’ve come to have left out
Crucial rescue tools
From my matutinal
Lost-combination locked bag of tricks.
In touch information
Out
How Then The Heavens Poured
July 26, 2014
Should I get older
I recognize me, more blind,
Crinking my neck back, there, as
I look up at the cliff terrace
And A windowed hideaway behind,
Not so unapproachably high,
Fixed over our Pacific, finally,
That we thought might couldn’t be.
Hard rain, hell, wept down a wet
that mixes well w/regret, on my shirt
.
2
.
One can look past all our four shoulders
From inside the glass wall
On the backside of our Adirondacks
And maybe just make out
What we’re watching and talking about.
A man closely following his own footsteps
The long stretch of the shore,
But looked up at the both of us,
Here Hand in hand, and how then the heavens poured.
I’VE IVORY
July 18, 2014
Shiny gold pen when an old
Shade-off light bulb
(it can be a candle)
Best Klieg-lights this crèche ,
Best showcases this birthplace.
.
On my knees
To lure verities, (surely, scour our trees)
To cure maladies,
Wrest fallacies from unsound foundations,
Whisper one less lonely
Wise, recognizable incantation.
Take this shiny gold pen…!
.
It’s nearby, go forth, go further.
I clear my path,
& Go over…
& I’ve Ivory!
Simba’s mammoth cemetery!
(they must go deep)
Precious sunned bones poised on as symbols
Archetexture actually
I take a sacred see of symmetry
.
To The Moon, The Far End Of My Driveway
July 11, 2014
Even I’m
Silent Partner in this stronghold.
Before I go on,
I’ll go on & make sure
The blinds are drawn.
.
.
When I’m
Aware/Awake It’s gone cold,
For me to know it,
I’ll go on & need you some
I’ll go on & remind me some
I’ll go and turn my life down some
I’ll sit myself down until
I’ll see myself still enough
To behold
You, me, both,
Silent partners in this stronghold.
NOT TOO WINDY
July 6, 2014
It’s too windy for flimsy masks
All thankfully yanked at on hardened air
The call & wash of wave then wave
Mark the times of our lives
.
The charade route marches
Its way today through town
An older man hoists his girl
Up upon his shoulders
Her/his quizzical smile is quiet
But her/his flush on her/his neck is evident
Veils down
A P OT H E C A R Y
January 21, 2014
Eli’s call came early
Cold & way too early for a new day
I was awake but I still dreamed
His call was a cry
As if it was for him
Insteada the other way
It was up to him
To set that we’d meet at the dimmest
Darkest strobing streetlight
Down under, nest to the trestle
When I got there, so was a girl named Angel
She held on to Eli, but could hardly protect him
We all talked abit how doctors acted watched lately
Fact is they were shy to grant old faithful effective cures
But daily, took chances guessing & giving crap
What well-dressed pharmaceutical promotion reps
Offered up in the morning hours
.
“You were once prescribed ho hum valientum”,
Eli teased, “And now Say Please
& I’ll fill your order ’till soon you’ll kill your ill-at-ease”
Angel smiled free of charge, her kind habit,
& I paid all the rest
And ran off like a rabbit.
- .
.
i)
s t I N K
.
of all the lies
in the air
that this liar
is truly unaware of
(is ’truly’ the right word?)
of all the lies
casual and caressing there
the air currents n
night-blooming jasmine
the golden ones have come from…
(I’ve told em. All alchemy.)
emboldened lies, all born, I imagine,
from an open pen draining onto pages,
.
from nothing.
ii).
.
.
I’VE IVORY
.
Shiny gold pen when an old
Shade-off light bulb
(it can be a candle)
Best Klieg-lights this crèche ,
Best showcases this birthplace.
.
On my knees
To lure verities, (surely, scour our trees)
To cure maladies,
Wrest fallacies from unsound foundations,
Whisper one less lonely
Wise, recognizable incantation.
Take this shiny gold pen…!
.
It’s nearby, go forth, go further.
I clear my path,
& Go over…
& I’ve Ivory!
Simba’s mammoth cemetery!
(they must go deep)
Precious sunned bones poised on as symbols
Archetexture actually
I take a sacred see of symmetry
.
iii)
When poetry’s god the old notions
When poetry goes poetry in motion
All of a sudden certain
Privileged glimpses are blurting out
.
All of a sudden
Uncertain unseen forces
Focus on instances, my wording output
(shushshush on my sources)
It’s a code I can tap
Out
.
FREE FROM THE FIX (I can find myself in)
January 5, 2013
Court fans helped cool it all down.
They called it
On account of a hung jury.
Collective unconscious,
Jung’s blurred things,
His thinking slurred all the town.
The thing is, I’m thinking,
Not “It’s a hot July”,
As the massive Law’s doors
Miss and swing by and behind me,
But “It’s way tres’ cool for a hot July.”
WHEN STARS SHOOT
December 14, 2012
humour me
it’s surely not insurmountable
humour me
I concur it’s not as easy as
glossy magazines on coffee tables
it’s what I really want for christmas
it’s what I really want for my wish
when stars shoot, for my penny in a well,
when a haytruck passes–don’t look back! aw hell
I guess it’s a day way serious
it’s a night more so