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.

HELL'S DITCH

.

Splash something stronger at the base of my pint glass

It’s more fertile earth

For to birth the guts & gas

One might need at night

To go on & drive clear off

Dark high-wire highways

Onto red dirt, rolling on cooling red dirt, to dead ends

So bleak a laugh comes out as a clearing cough

 

BETTER BET

October 12, 2019

Maybe I can meet you

After my shift, hell after all my shifts

I’ll come to you from the usual dark

The black from the outside

Will brighten some on your skin

We’ll be less dissatisfied

.

.

If  when  we  go  off

With all of our ghosts, when we lift

We’ll come to ditch the usual dark

That black from outside

With more tempered dreams to venture

To be less dissatisfied

REFUSING THE DAWN

September 28, 2019

IMG_4835

.

.

I can Recognize, but hell, I can’t Realize so well.
I’d drink more coffee but my cardiologist insists I don’t
I’d drink more coffee but my heart man prescribes “not so smart, man”.

I’d think more whiskey would push me to bask at last in a primal light,

but my general practitioner generally frowns about practicing until I get it right.

I’d read more but eyes see less.. I digress,

I’d come 2/pray more/give in/give more/dream-sleep in/weep for once/

walk the lit dark like I used to/ Take in the dark light. I’ve so far refused to.

I can Recognize, but hell,

I don’t Realize so well.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

(FROM AT LEAST A DECADE BACK)