Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Day Twelve: Index of Ten O'Clock Morning; Sunny & Indulgent (an index poem)

Abstract, more aligned to reality than we understand or will admit may be thoughts
Apples, while walking through the forest we came upon a meadow of watercolor 

Blankets, she beckoned across the vast field of zinnias and forgotten 

Cadence, when writing you I fall into silent 
C-words, finding such tactile and implicit innuendo in every 

Decidedly, how can one take a flight of stone steps to the unknown so 

Ephemeral, the times between our interactions are long but seem 
Eros, of stars and light rise 

Flight, transfixed upon the rock he stood staring at the pelicans ready to take 

Gambol, watching the two 

Hidden, nothing is as sacred as that which is for the moment 
Hijacked, someone pulled up the circus tent--high wires and crows

Iridescent, and, their bodies lay in a spot of sunlight 

Jambalaya, childhood rests brewed and bothered until it boils up 

Keep, a, silently and sacredly we seal up our dreams as though locked within 

Lips, tongues dance within our 

Mystery, we soar as others fail to fly remains a dark

Nonsense, of cupcake rabbit holes these words morph to 

Opossums, she holds a remarkable fondness for 

Pearl, every human form becomes upon this blue rock a fierce but fragile 

Queer, pressing my body against your wall naked and intent feels suddenly 

Root, where home no longer serves as our 

Sacred, licorice and peppermint tea served alongside double-stuffed oreos becomes 
Scarlet, dreams exist against the fibers of the ordinary moments painted 

Texture, smooth to rough shines 

Uncovered, sunlight catches us 

Violet, transcendent and together we are 

Wildly, thunderstorms nourish the longing tempered
Wings, improbable construction these things of feathered 

Xyris difformis, yellowed-eyed grass found on bogs and pond shores is 

Yesterday, of such intangible forgotten hours waits

Zinnias, with proper care magnificently bright will grow the western sunflowes 

Monday, April 11, 2016

Day Eleven: cathartes aura

every night
at
twilight
large dark birds begin their sky-dance
in
thick bizarre numbers
swirling concentric formations
these buzzards glide
alert--alive
in search of ... carrion? chaos?
ever-widening
ever-increasing
not ceasing
'til darkness comes ....
slow
circles
looming
scavenging
for our spent hours
and
lost
light


Sunday, April 10, 2016

Day Ten: from the shelf


























on the road
higgelity piggelity pop!
South, North, East & West
life is a verb
Finnegan Wake
At Hell's gate
Still Life With Woodpecker
Blackberry Hollow
This Explains Everything
The Road Home 

Saturday, April 9, 2016

Day 9: drive all blames into one

"today, i would wed you"
unusual--boldly wild that comes
(recoiling)
the blow of it--
blame rests with the wind;
blustering so fierce
relentless pressing of grass & grasping
(shift--deflect)
blame might lie on the abundance of flowers;
sun-bright punch-drunk tulips
daffodils lemon-blonde
hyacinth noble & heavy
dismantled--unburdened
of karma's sentence
(those fucking uptight
time-junkies)
passing my hand across the surface of things
texture & temperature
allow the release
allow the leap
easy--to lay the crime on things
easy to surrender to the bliss of the thing
for one x one moment--

more than likely
it is the wind


Friday, April 8, 2016

Day Eight: The Tale of the Amethyst-Blossom Spring


there is a shrub that grows
thirty feet from my door
across a narrow street
its pearly psychedelic purple hue bursting
BURSTING
redolent and refined
a portal to another time
somehow out-of-place
amongst waking ferns
and concrete
it beckons with shadows dark
light defined by goldfinches
and blue jay's riches
unknown its species--its name
thirty feet from my door
no less no  more
to discover where it goes
becomes my secret
becomes the story
rhododendron bursting
surrender
the
morning







Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Day Six: Fragaria vesca

the first time comes back
transported in bursts of pointed captured memory
wind bold unrelenting flash;
first whiff--fragrant wildness
first touch--sticky promise
dimpled berry
scarlet
chomp
suckle
savor
repeat
wee yellow seed-dots defining opal evermore
summer's portal to childhood divinity
chomp
suckle
and savor
the Sun 

Day Five: Hopi Pink Flour Corn

...of dark amaranth gems
polished by prairie winds
and neglect
forgotten in the back of a dresser
made by my grandfather in 1924...
what silk comes from loss?
nourishment pulled from sun
furrowed
tucked and turned
burrowed
to tendered earth
to rise
cerise sweetness
again