GUTS AND GRACE

October 3, 2020

.

.

Twist a knob on the dash

Adjust the width on the hole on the window

Just so you might  read the road’s edge

Roll down yr icy window, fold down yr sleeves

For this hour  at least.

Fueled with guts & grace

Not to get caught  in that dead-end place,

I ought, Through  too late darknesses

(onto too early empty dawns)

On to one Firecolor’s  promise

From one  sunrise

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

photo-invisiblepower (pexels)

S E E I N G

September 30, 2020

“Either the Darkness alters —
Or something in the sight
Adjusts itself to Midnight —
And Life steps almost straight.”

EMILY DICKENSON

.

It’s late. For all the planet,

It’s late. But if I want it,

Appearances are clearer.

Tree-branches moon is dearer to

Me. So, soon the sidewalks immersed

In late night abysses

Rise up to meet my boots deliberate

Delays now fleeting

City lights powered up enough

Just enough for seeing

.

.

.

.

.

photo mine

LAVENDER DARK

August 13, 2020

lavander dark2

“The Rising Of Atlantis” — https://www.deviantart.com/iram

.

.

 

My dusk meets dawn

I lack an abstract  with me in it

I mark it as “Lavender Dark”.

Last night’s reddest poem/ This 1st read paean, it’ll

Open some day with somber informality,

Then steepen  in its diffusion

(diamond fogs are just  like that),

So that the only way out is to blow out a sigh,

Accept clever nonsense,

&  as ever, just sigh.

 

A T B A Y

May 11, 2020

 

I’ve kept dread at bay

We’ve not slept plenty this plague

I’ve made despair lie

Down and roll over

It’s easy to master it

Authentically accept it.

.

.

.

desolate3

photo credit- Altoff (pix)

GREEN GLASSHOUSE

May 3, 2020

 

 

 

 

abandonedgreenhouse1

I  see  I  settled

It would faintly be a  fate

(Freedom, comes a sweet release)

But I had settled

With   wait.

.

Where our hours had  hard like hours

And landfilling them

Sets the sadder shadowed facets of silence

To  stem.

.

Hey, yr own old whore,

Before you defile

Yr dreamily dark greenhouse

Pitching

Both  words and stark sticks & stones,

Get a hard look

On each hard paned reflection

It does/  despite a dozen plagued days & plagued nights/

Matter/

What I heard on hope/  at least/

& what’s more / Before/ true peace/

Can come  & stay/

Whiskey/ we’ll have to hold out/

Oh/  I’ll hold on/  for some more memory/

I’ll wait out/ dark matter endlessly/

I’ll Stall all  possibility/

& Staying dark/ is not work for me/

Just  sayin /  “Mark my wordspill”/

I’m still falling still/

Into true

True love

.

 

 

“THE TENEBROUS DEATHBED SCENE”, VERY LATE,

FROM FAR ABOVE THE CUTTING ROOM FLOOR

 

 

 

near the end

Violaceous  clouds could stir to nearing.

My mise en scene set,  I’ll be blocking the shot,

Readying my stand-ins,

Cueing the soundtrack.

I’ll need special lenses to capture the light,

To be faithful to the script.

 

Our years had passed, right alongside our precious bonds of memory.

One  light came into here, far brighter than the full- moonlight did.,

Dead onto here

She had signed off   on a missive  to me

With

“Love, “

BABY CASK

December 30, 2019

 

It could be a baby cask of Chianti
With Leo Da Vinci
On the label like it took from a notebook
Curiosity sought the imagery
My thirst might evoke.

.

It could be a baby cask upon a piano
Stark like one candle in one window
Not a word about the new chords
Almost heard in the darknesses,
A solemn oath, (I guess)
Not a word about the new chords.

.

CASK

CRUMBLED SOME

December 7, 2019

It’s more than a coincidence
That “pillow” rhymes/w “shadow”.
If I had to,
& the sense to know how,
I’d set the darkest dreams aside.
If I lied some, & thought those things
As tied up,
I’d fake it some, I’d hope some
For a wide enough merciful break,
& loosening rope,
& in this broken cup
I hold my spirits up.

“Very little grows on jagged rock/Be grounded/Be crumbled/So wildflowers will come up” -Rumi

cupstone

F i n d

November 11, 2019

It’s like I took then lost this
I find the book but lose all my crucial glasses.

.

When she’s away he awakens
In a computer chair  at 4
In his underwear  shivering
He shivers his way to a quiet bed  for a  quilt fervor.

.

 

.

I could swear  when I’m there in Cold  Extraordinaire
I’ll find yr essence in the air
I breathe in on the other side of dark.
No charts, No GPS, No whereabouts facebook (I would guess)
Just heart, by the numbers, by the book.