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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(A NEW HERO, I SUSPECT)

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.

I’m finding  the fix is in

 

The re-regrets  &  vexed reveries

 

Prove more pronounced this evening and

 

Soft  beats  a  sleeplessness

 

That only a cozy unsolved misery

 

Can sidle up too

B L I N D I N G

February 27, 2018

“Ill  at  ease”

Will be one accurate way,

When  I can think then straight about it,

One apt way to shout it.

They  say  they

“Say it as it is”, (they’re pissed)

They say  ” just being honest, man”

“No B.S.  man” (slurring pissed)

They’re weak to only “speak their minds”.

And when I,

Gently as I can,

Retranslate to that guttural, but frank tongue,

I  see

They’re consequently

Hurt.

&  then there’s me  in this blinding  open lot

W/blood on my shirt.

SOME SKETCHY SANCTUM

December 4, 2017

 

Some seem to see the floor of the sea

as a sketchy, yet effective sanctuary.

They’re thinking, I think, that it’s tucked away

good. &  Could be quite quiet.

Sure would be  you’d dream good there.

Surely, it goes  you must breathe free much slower.

Sure,  bluegreen cracks for surface lightening.

But, You’ll see  that jeweled fishes,

Stilled  with  witness,

Flee at the softest flourish.

And bets are..sandbeds there are busy with movement.

How can my dreams take when I’m floating awake?

 

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RYE INROADS

August 4, 2017

On  inroads, scraping,

& Faced with less escaping;

One  reclamation.

.

.

I’ve  erased  all boasts

Of   encroaching  clarity.

Thought I’d caught a glimpse.

 

OUR PAIRNESS

July 22, 2017

 

 

It wouldn’t, understandably,

Be unwise,

Though circumspect,

You look directly into the seeing eyes

Of an astute, & ably Miss

And ask  the tallest florist

“What’s the apt blossom symbolism

Best for telling  my steady;

‘You know already..

Our  Pairness   (no lie)

Best Real izes     Oh Relief

As we  just justify

Our  being'”

.

“Those, that nosegay  near the ceiling”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

.                   i)

M  U  C  H

often it’s uncertain   to see,

to see the true things through,

but certainly sometime’s there’s time

when surely much of what’s new

when noticed might matter

to you or rather

to  me

.

.                    ii)

.

D  U  E

I fear I forget that the frail,

nearly unable, but

when a whisper of   Will…

when they muster an incalculable

measure of  reach

to straighten, and lean up

for what’s due.

That’s alot to wait for

.

The Freshest thing in the clearing

by the pond’s sunk boat,

near a nest,  There’s this ringing

drop, possibly  just now  dotting

one leaf,  left  just new

by all the dew

That’s what I wait for

.

.

.

.

.

(from 9 years back)

BREATHING EXERCISES

June 29, 2017

 

 

I.

She won’t roll away & not watch me.

Y’see, I won’t  seem to take,

When I dream (or I wake).

to take  another breath  before

The scene fades, before

lights go up

then down  to more of a zoom.

She waits in our bedroom for me to resume.

II.

We went to go to a yoga class.

Where a barefooted, hairpleated group leader;

beautiful, and calmer than a

merciful last coma,

She insisted that our deep breath is

the gist of all of it  (within, & out).

We rearrange the short & tall of it.

The Gist to change the depth, see,

of our sea of possibillity.

When we inhale

we rememorize  our own gods.

We exhale our hell.  barefoot.  on a mat.

Whew. To all that.

III.

When I get to go to the Gulf of Mexico

I’ll try out  into the drink,  1st thing.

I’ll try not to think when I try to let go

&  sink when I deadman’s float all day,

into what I think of as a spiritual drift, in a way.

I’ll hold onto my breath,

face down,

head down.