Outside
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Thoughts, upward,
dangling,
and ____snow.
Study of Flesh and Milk
Isle free from symbols, from artifice
and that second coating of things
over beings engaged and open
singularly and monstrously,
as monsters by lack
of depth and pity for talking.
___________To the God
and His rams, a functional talking
of shared existence, peer
to both as self and other, cared for
and caretaker and restful, static
and contented with such ease
wrought in solipsistic irony
barring artifice and communion,
repellent to the dancers and poets
and singers of mortal actions;
they moved away and gave witness
and conveyance to storied beings,
a hero fallen to marauder and blight
robbing of simple sights, now saved
as the whole of the passed and dead
is given, remorseful and silent, unfit
for man, a single tale, stable and uncouth.
Blinding nobody as the weight has,
the vast expanse that precludes homestead
and atones for the death of a hypoculture.
Thus Rose the Erose Things
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Cool shadows of wind, crumbling
the shore in tandem with sea,
accepting of the offering given
of earth, just earth and artifice
convenient enough to be
left and misconsidered, tallied
and longed for vaguely, though
some remains; enough to stand
and lay by, with sandy feet
incognizant of their unreality,
acting as such with each other
imagined breath and shaping
into words too maladroit
to grasp and hold and be
held._________Once a Day
this process is lit and seen
without remembrance, even
now.
Sarsen Toughts
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Holding on to abstracts
of comfort, of solace
smudged by despond rightly,
though that is unthought
yet written and erased of meaning
substantial.
Pagan places the mind wanders
like sea, like gods
in thought and fullness
and cohesion; this is
right enough now, this
being and coherence open,
sighing and tired.
Whimpered Inflorescence
I see the light went out,
whistled breath, awash in
bombarded by Crowd.
Arms folded and holding coats
like sunflowers
with too-heavy hands
in frosted ground
flaunting sensible longing
for proper timing
so maybe he died.
Smile happy, sense of others,
and bleed like streetlights
that dream of daytime.
Renovations
Monday, February 1, 2010
A God and a language of ends,
coins on the butcher's block
by the doorway; beset by new tympana
of wall paint, beige and singing, right,
framing the old job and hollow.
Unfinished but suggestive of contrast:
the lighter and the darker shying still
more away from grey black etc-
walk lightly and dry, the bounds
will not stay put.
Disclosures
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Being light-contingent and image'd about,
sitting stolidly in vague abandon
as piecemeal wonders fragment reason and such,
caught up in tumult capricious and lasting,
lasting and aware and squinting at meaning
thus made clearer.
Swinging somehow in a haphazard rhythm,
caught in his thoughty possessions.
Posed slight, subsumed by the open
and flattened.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)