Night Before Hearts

February 13, 2020

 

 

 

baritone sax=Pepper Adams         piano=Bill Evans

ENTWILIGHTENMENT

February 13, 2020

In Nightstreams;

Characters cast into indecipherable scripts

All are strangers

To stare at, to starve for,

More, to promptly forget.

And Daydreams;

Live characters I’ve cared fiercely for

Live  too far enough I know  away in shadows

To re know/ to re have/ to re love

In this half life

u n e a s y

January 31, 2020

ONE,  he’s  awoken/

Uneasy & broken some night scenes still/

He’s soaked, & might seem shaken/

He sees  he seems  he’s shaking/

He wanders Up for water/

She says he should shower/

He sits with her in his chair.  still/

She said soon She’ll come back to our sleeproom

When She’s tireder./

He requests & requires her/

To pull along  the most merciful cat,/

The kindest cat.

.

.

TOO,  You liked it I bet./

I lit yr. cigarette,/

A gesture I saw up late./

.

.

Our love of olives,/

Sweet cheeses,  lime,/

We’ll have avocados/

We’ll  happily  dare/

Shiny,  stilllife   apples, bare,/

We’ll  halve  them./

.

.

I’ll have  yr. crucial kisses/

(Mainly making me manly) Crucial kisses/

Are as crucial as/

Hard candies/

In a Grande Hotel for Grannies./

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F I X

November 18, 2019

finding re-regrets

and vexed reveries prove more

pronounced this evening

.

find the fix is in

sleeplessness is a cozy

unsolved misery

.

.

.

sleepless

APPEARANCES

October 21, 2019

EDVARD MUNCH

“SOME KINDS OF NIGHT ANIMALS AND PEOPLE THAT DON’T FIT IN WITH OTHERS AND THAT NOBODY REALLY BELIEVES IN. THEY KEEP OUT OF THE WAY ALL THE YEAR. AND THEN WHEN EVERYTHING’S QUIET AND WHITE AND THE NIGHTS ARE LONG AND MOST PEOPLE ARE ASLEEP
— THEN THEY APPEAR.”
TOVE JANSSON, MOOMINLAND MIDWINTER


.

.

.

the night fills book shelves

of  newselves

and ghosts ancient  that go silent
 
after you dare to glare it down.

the night fills full boxes

of hoaxes

all honest, bold-faced hazy facades

and full frontal epiphanies

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

STILL, THERE WAS THAT LIGHT

January 24, 2019

She won’t remember when  without a word we wandered
Dark collegetown neighborhoods.
Where were the dogs & cops? I wondered.
We were thrilled for the night still.
Still, there were all the satellites.
And very still, there was that light
In a candlelit picture window.
It gave a silhouette, a shadow  readying a bed.
Buffing up a sheet, she showed us,
(My sister Janny and me),
Her heart-stopping Beauty;
A silent ballet shadow show that
We acknowledged.
Her walk-stopping ethereal naked lines.
Then we  continued on, still wordless.
Then got stiller yet.

BIT OF A RECLUSE

January 23, 2019

It could be I got bit
Three times by a recluse spider.
Here in the sub-tropics
Where recluse spiders are a risk
But I’m a bit of a recluse, too.
I like the dark,
My own time, & whiskey.
Oh, the friends and kin they call me;
They go “Cool Guy!”,
Man, they might  “Night Falls”  me.
When  there’s  three red moons on my arm,

They all do enthrall me,
Almost with their own flow chart.
It’s dangerous art,
Three red, full moons on my arm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My uneasy manner may wear
Against a midnight and on
Persistent are
Green bottle shards

again & again
Against a reef

a Lighthouse
over sees

yet overlooks

G A U G E S

September 11, 2018

 

 

“Life is short, and Art long; the crisis fleeting; experience perilous, and decision difficult.” -Hippocrates

.
.“In the fog you are sheltered against the outside world, face to face with your inner self. Nebulat ergo cogito.” (fog therefore I think) -Umberto Eco
.
.
There’s fog.
Then, there’s people landing planes at all hours.
There’s dogs chasing birds
on runways. And one way those people in those towers
can plan to, and see to, land planes is
the guts to go with the gauges.
They heartfelt  dealt with data,
Trusted all they’d seen
on their farforeign &; onlyman-made monitor screen.
As dogs flushed their fog,
hands hover over lights
and cover their old bets,
their usual action.
,
, from 2009