Friday, February 20, 2009

One after the other

The field is long enough to disappear
into the distance reaching the illusion of
the horizon, a golden hue

the sunlight paints the reeds
and hay wound tightly
is scattered across the land
one after the other

a splintered beam hangs off
the broken wooden fence in
need of mending
or the gentle strokes
of fresh paint

plowing through the thicket
feet stomping down footprints
in the soft upturned soil

heaving breath shooting out
under the pressure
move faster

all fall down in the fields
a chameleon's head turned
towards the heavens

eyes closing now
with another head
resting against
a chest

flying together towards the constellations

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Friday, February 13, 2009

Clairvoyant

Clairvoyant
Why don't you start
you
need to be better
to see the future

to perceive two steps ahead

to understand a bigger picture
everything for you
limited

on a single track

while we mend broken
things
sewing things
lovely things

outrunning
the dominoes falling
before they catch up
like a wave

juggling with one hand outstretched
and one hand
tied to the side

a stronger threshold for pain
than you

weight bearing loads
heavy on slim shoulders

Untitled

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Hounds

Sitting uptight upright
straight on the steps
the columns with lurching eyelids

blinking tick tick ticking
casting shadows flicker
zip cars zip by zip
the median meandering

across and sway
heavy like weights
hanging on the end of a string
attached to his eyelashes

careful steps between cracks
boardwalk bricks wooden
slats splintering
the ocean air corroding
the chemicals

fumbling balances
hands forever outstretched
along the invisible bubble
in the level

delicate now
I see the possibilities
hounds come running now

gathering scents
a thunderous thumping
tribal hands hard now
on heavy chest
breathing
bellowing

a stupid happy grin
and blankness

Saturday, February 7, 2009

this is.....

Following

The shadows are marking invisible
threads on the white walls

rotating round and round
dangling sparkle
by threads of
iron and steel

a compass the guide
wind winding blowing
shapes that will
never repeat unique

space overspun
in glorified ambiance
the thick track

treading grooves
waterfall and back again
the bars crisscross
a hatch pattern

in the deep dirty earth
mounds like body parts
emerging and digressing

slip in side slide
between
glass and wood frames
without ceilings

its source shining down
to amaze us again
while we look up
vacant
in our own worldly wonder

imagine an infinite explosion
and the light streaming slowly
cast over everything
precious and semiprecious

buffed to a shine
a little leash
to make us submit

to our following

Friday, February 6, 2009

the gold square

Thumb

My balance bound in a stride uncertain
Tipping topping toes
My fingers graze the contours of the unseen shapes

I imagine the scene before me
a wide expanse of green fields
and I fall to the ground

in a tizzy

the tall grasses
my cushion in the tall grasses
the tall grasses

I see shapes in the sky
I touch it with my fingers
drawing the outline
with one closed eye

a breeze rushes through
the atmosphere and my blowing
strands of hair

there's color there
in the space behind my eyes
what I spy in the daylight
descends
transforms
a mask of its double
in the darkness

its likeness in the hollow
faint and drift towards
the unconscious

a swirling unease
the catapulted delight
bellowing broadly

the warmth of the sun
shining down again

Thursday, February 5, 2009

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Impossible

She had dreams
of doing things
she could only imagine
in real life

Flying like superman
off tall buildings
Swimming in rough waters
and basements flooded

My baby's in the corner I have to save her

Tricycle became bicycle
Double dutch wasn't a mystery

How to figure out this mess
How to figure out this mess

She dreams the impossible
But I was holding the winning ticket

I listened to the numbers
the code
My hands trembling and contented silence

but the dream hasn't bled yet
to the storm of the waking world where
a tornado the stuff of nightmares
creeps around corners
and all I want to do is sleep

Jump Rope Collage

Monday, February 2, 2009

Etching

I could settle in
to this comfortable place
wishing for the years
to consume me
blankly

Free
and bound by
all your words
cascading
digging trails

Peering inside
the dusty windows
empty bottles
and dried leaves
all but forgotten

I'm pulling you
up by your
hair
and fingertips
lingering prints
etched in my eyes
burning regret