Category Archive for ‘poetry’

Father, you came to her that night

words – dream-scrambled, unrecalled

apart from melody of ending, from beyond

all opening of death


“Now I am biting the void,” you said,

“Now I am biting the void.”


and so we became sisters, the void and I.

In laughter and dance,

swirling in mockery of life and love

believing in himself too much

shaking and trembling in his rhythms

as if we could empty them all-

laughing at Eden, because that promised,

ever-so-fertile land

has blood-stained walls.


So here we dance, oh kinder king,

Embracing voidity naked, and finding ourselves

frontier-less, nothing,

allowing creation itself.


Indeed, God himself asked space

to twitch his face and

laugh at pure reflection.


Come to me void, my oldest love,

– let me dissipate

and expand through you,

walking through those holy walls dividing

what is and what is not

Let me welcome the night and the promise

of becoming

…or not.


Dance with me void, through me, in me

until infinity itself collapses

and we go behind

the first point

of life expanding,

forever abandoning itself,

as being confused in unbeing

sprays gray space of arriving


I stand near the ocean where builders are free

based on thoughts of you, this rhythm, the sea
and the quietest dripping within, like ice-bergs
softly melting or juttings of rock eroding
as anger submits to sprays of fear
and old storms leave
sea-face still as a mirror,
and undercurrents of love and grief
follow mystery of this moon
that lets cooler light fall
through difference in one soul
and the next…
as various as these shells
whole and broken,
heaped in wandering lines
by the tides.

knowing these sapphire depths
divide in rivers and deltas
and raindrops and
steam of passionate loss
and tears falling again
so fertile,

as gentle waves like mothers’ hands
wash sand from aching feet
whose footprints traced your ways.

And I feel you playing
with these little toes,
always curled within themselves-
and after birth
when they were just a longing
to belong, you counted
each one to see that there were ten.



on mites
of light
in flight
she notices the stillness of sacred speed
how infinite mass, the quiet unwavering
needle of the clock singles out another
story of light and timeless thought as we
enfold the spectrum, travelling on light’s
chariot and reaching planets more distant
than your eyes tonight as rehearsing her,
you feel it’s time to disembark from this

I sit in garden bordered magenta
seek pardon in hoarding of light-
the dance around this place in and out
of other worlds
around that tree of life,
and the others, this bird,
teaching mysteries of flight and nectar
this earth,
teeming with nature run wild
etheric pulsing without ethic
of mental form – my house there –
yellow and moving blue
the gravity of this soul;
and sitting here in poppies
red like old wounds recut
in seasons
the shadows seem much blacker
in rising light so strong
my eyes must close.

And closing eyes I find
purer souls of loved and dead
passing inner arches
leaving tokens
formed from faster feeling
to one who sits
in silence where light and shade
touch each other and wave.

Mother I am,
and mothered to earth
faithful until the shadows
consume the final light
whiter than I can hold in form
and we find
we are no longer many-
but blazing one sun to other
galaxies to splinter ourselves
once more.

And perhaps there I am the lover-
with Apollo in pastures unthought
after vows to fragile earth
release to new-born melody,
and northern pole stays encircling
this inner chant
of artemis nobilis
hands arrows sharpened by unborn love
reaching into Eden.


These hands held
darker pleas for help, cherishing
space where sunlight failed to
touch, unlocking goodness caged.
at close of feather, oh soul, soother
of fear ensnared; hearer of kernal
aching; seducer of flesh and truth;
pilgrim of Eden’s precincts; this bird
finds stillest finger extended, forgiving
all these flights of rage and jealous abandon,
safe now, she accepts destiny as outer space as
wingless thoughts disperse, lands surprised by
joy, on stable perch. Oh gardener of seeds,
how she forgets the stolen curses, dropping
crumbs of former pain, as these wings plumed
for healing and ancients whistle glorious rising
of dawn. And she sees the finger pointing,
as softest sun pastels routes navigated
before the nest was woven,
showing ways to fly
so wings spread
in ecstasy of
cosmic blend,
free to ride
the winds
that guide
her home.

Ochroma lagopus

you never
would reach 40;
drunk and real dead,
your girl pruned mortal,
knocking shock in time,
from clearing surreal.
feeling wood-like that
coffin,             Mr.  Sheen
dense,        shoulder
funeral          flame
flares             in forest
to burn                  white dwarf,

in that
follows olive twig,
branch of instant whip,
hurt leaf-lip shaking,
tear in mossy face-
your son and grace.
today 40 years, dead
drunk and gardened
in clinics, splinters
will incinerate-
clutching forsaken
flute – and flakes of ash
rises in balsa wood holes
where death is mute…
he blows songs of rage.

being here with you in essence,

an ancient idea unwinds
of thoughts we had beyond
familiar mystery-
in your eyes, there’s love
absorbing details left behind.

no matter, anger left behind,
in breathing skin I sense
a closeness within, my love,
as this old clock unwinds
a temporal mystery-
the silence from beyond.

yes, we always reached beyond
ourselves, leaving privacy behind;
seeking to conquer mystery,
we tried to crack this essence
to let unknown paths unwind
in nights charged with love.

and simply said, we’re making love,
as through love and beyond
the darker fears unwind,
leaving parameter behind
as rehearsing our essence,
we groom a greater mystery.

humanity itself is mystery
of illusion shaped by love
manifest how this essence
was always here, beyond
the mind or behind
the moments that unwind

so take my hand, unwind
tonight kiss shared mystery,
sublime space and behind,
this greater love,
the wisdom uttering beyond
and through our wildest essence.

let essence and time unwind,
kiss mystery now, behind
these lips, a love found beyond.


 did they dare it?
 or did love burn so whitely
 it cleansed need to manifest love
 as mortals - we hungering half-circles
                   yearning the whole
             yin and yang
 two fish just grounded

    	           writhing apart
         on mooreland as 
    river flows onward
        unheeding, magdelena loved freedom's
           currents, holy a priestess, unearthing
               sacred lust for living, so God
                      gets laid on earth

The Gathering

Gather up your                 thoughts and move
to places phoenix                               found lasting together
more promises                     crafted              in pearls beyond
quieter leaning               toward              love that never said
it could hold             you,                 even as darker folds
of wisdom’s       glory     unwind in fire-lit futures
reached only behind the ball of pasty rock
we call the moon… suffer not
for suffering alone,
but let mystery
be guiding ways
to abstract joy
and glitters
of words reformed to
ferment the kingdom coming.

Faces float in sea-light scolding
this space in earth enfolded by tides in and out
and high and sometimes arching low, we let heights excite
lost worlds submerged and held skeletal in shipwrecked structures,
each dim crack preserved as breathing life in and out, choicelessly pulling you here
and casting you back: we find pleasure expanding and pain retracts – deeper rhythm and pulse
pulling and pushing in and out of Eden, as soul sex holds us closer, rhythms of touch attract and reject,
press and release and enfold you again. And opening the holding to wilder seas where we could fuck and fuse,
create and part – as universe reforms in great explosion and dies again, receiving here in sacred shelter the light show
of coincidence, the accident of words tongued in place of hope, the incident of being, through sensuous reaction deeper
still to consume ourselves: disperse. And you could be all to me- mother, lover, father, brother, friend, charlatan, beggar,
tramp most holy with face torn and scarred – as when human glance caresses this chest of breath, it expands around
dust storm transforming to pillar of light – the tribal need in wilderness searching freedom and separate suddenly,
we turn from golden statues, minor gods and each mirage of light reflecting inside itself, as we collapse
in space beyond holding life in death, and death in life, the ecstasy of pain, and torment of pleasure,
the celebration of suffering, and joy most alone. And I have no right not to love you
from unending, radiant core where time unwinds all crazy, dress undone,
grinning wide as loving here, we are in love breathing echelons
where creators destroy and destruction creates
and the only mark of private self is
a collective sounding of fate.