spinning and sharing

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

poem of exhaustion

In Poetry on February 21, 2011 at 8:22 am

floating in a boat is nice

if once, or twice

you can shut your voice

eyes, ears, and heart

down

into dark deep pools

and come back

refreshed enough to swim to shore

Fat fat Fly

In Poetry on January 25, 2011 at 6:57 pm

From the edge of my vision,

like a shy child,

the fat, black fly appeared.

moving slowly and thoughtfully,

rubbing stick legs together

as if he were cold,

or nervous next to a giant.

and i thought to mysel:

“there’s no way I’d want to swat you”,

“you move so slow, it’d be a shame.”

so we’ll share my desk today

unless he decides

to light on my food.

I held you in my arms

In Poetry on September 21, 2010 at 4:26 am

I held you in my arms,

Feet planted firmly in the sand.

We were staring out to sea at dusk.

You a treasure in strong arms

Them there for your protection

We held each other, truly did.

My baby in my arms,

Too late to offer you to the bled out sun

Too late for a tad more

A little more daylight to daydream by

For now the waves were purple, and now the waves were black

And now the sky became a cave, a’ fletched with stars.

I held you in my arms, like the treasured objects before me

(the sparkle in the black cave).

Feet planted in the sand

(the weight of you sinking me)

staring out to sea.

(a last romantic gesture).

Now I start up at the memory,

cold sweat and worthwhile memory.

A protecting vow of love,

disturbing my sleep.

I reach for your encompass

Your beauty and your grace

Like a glass of water, cold and beaded

And reassuring in the room’s night.

My fingers find nothing to hold

Nor nothing there to quench.

Rigid am I as I think

My feet sinking

(a final gesture rife with promise)

My head thinking

Why does it go on at all?

A mother washing

In Poetry on May 18, 2010 at 3:42 am

Crinkled skin, sagging skin
busy wash the dish
mouth a little slack
hair a little thin
whistling a tune
the boy won’t bring ruin to your work
nor insult your lifeblood

Water Buffalo<

In Poetry on April 26, 2010 at 5:13 pm

Hey beast, I see you,

yonder on the grassy shore

Tethered and peaceable

and alone.

So I’m pulling over, paddle laid

straightaways on my lap

Palms on the bow

That means peace, by the way

My god,

You’re beautiful.

You’re shy, too, stealing looks at me

As I stare your bronze body into shame

The sun

hits you

in

such

a

way.

Your horns are short and neat

and sweet, you couldn’t gore me,

would you?

Mine companions thataways, drifting down the teal river

We’re alone so…

So finally now, we share a gaze

Longer than memory, history,

And in two onyx abysses I’m lost.

I seek

To return, go back to a time

When your nostrils weren’t threaded with string

And that life,

Where as a pure peach one-inch boy,

I hung happily on your neck.

Poem about Yong Ding Men

In Poetry on April 26, 2010 at 2:16 pm

Yong Ding Men

When it turns you around
There
Like something infinitely distant,
walk towards it.
Each step takes hearts and minds
Into the past
Sandy peddlers
Wrap and unwrap sandy goods and meals
Sandy problems,
Stir and blow
Each step a little closer
to passing them,
Closer to a gate of Heaven.
Across now a rift road of universe
Black Tar
Yellow Striped
reminds us with a jarr,
of the now
Look both ways, no one’s hand to hold
And back on the path again
To Heaven.
Away from loneliness each footfall rests
In the ground, steady rhythm,
beating heart, step, step
And as the sun cools
We reach cool stone walls to rest.
Sit down, breath deep and see
Dogs run past, on children’s feet
Children speak with confidence
Wearing brightly helmets
Fallen, stars pick themselves up
And commence to racing colorfully
Across the ancient stones.
Wheelchairs pushed
by their ancient riders
Once lame,
Newly liberated, newly blessed,
By something like Heaven.
Loving hands, sandy hands
Guide orange kites
Tailed blue kites and white kites
Steadfast minnows swimming in place
As the grey evening waters
Push the cloud lilies past them
Laughter kind and pure,
Equal under Heaven.
And then from the laughter movement now flows ribbon like
Bold
From the quiet pastel scene and those spry twinkle-eyed elders
Revered and mischievous,
Arise with colored plumes in hand
Fan dancing to the dragon drums
And the thunder cymbals wrought by gods
Each crash of which a crowd grows here
And the carriages of red and gold rumble on the stones
Each father, daughter looking on
With jesters, princes, concubines
And gossiping mother swans
In the Court of Heaven.
A crippled whore,
Vermillion
From lips to toes, limps to her place
Her steps and plumes same same
As all the others
She sways,
Revered as all the others.
The crowd delighted, joyous,
as the dancers step
Bards and soldiers clap their hands
As pauper children dart and dash
Between the wheels of bicycles.
And the old Lao Tou
Wrinkled beyond measure,
His wizened one eye watching
He keeps the beat with a closed fan
Softly tapping the arm
Of his jade throne, the one with wheels
Of stainless steel and rubber
Tap, tap, tap.
The sky dimming now like a closing eye
Keep walking forward, children
Young and old,
To and from Heaven.
Steady, step

Caballo Rojo

In Poetry on April 22, 2010 at 6:08 am

Caballo Rojo

In those deep quiet channels

Where whispers die with yells

He bursts from boiling waters

Like ten thousand bells

Death’s head rearing back

Long nosed,  cold and gray

A whinny akin to

Cerberus’s bay.

Seen never by eyes, living or sane

Racing starved through screaming forests,

and frozen, anguished plains.

The windy hooves so fast

with the speed of famine, swift as plague

The horse cuts swaths through dappled dreams

And the best of men fall and fade

The red steed, the terror, the dread

Gallops hourglass steady, ready

-Tick tock, tick tock-

Dead ahead.

Among plowshares and

wars where blood runs red,

The red, red blood,

The mad Death’s head.

Amongst grinning skulls now,

the skulls of warriors, fools

Swept in nightmare tide

But also innocence, too

There were innocents, Two

In his wake no hopeless lovers,

nor morrow’s dew,

Their last embrace tight

before they, the black horse slew.

Phantasmal coil, the chrismal fear

That half-flayed gorgon, when he nears

Has no pity for you, or for me, my dear…

…save a tear.

A tear?

“A tear!” one bold child one night said

In the warm candled cottage, fingers clinging to bread

“I’ve seen them dead eyes shed tears

On nights black as lead,

I’ve seen the brightest stars fall

From that sad Death’s Head

And I know it’s a sad job, spreading the death that he spreads.”

Hush child, now hush!

You foolish bad luck scamp

You’d like the Reaper himself

To sit in our laps?

And they cackled and laughed:

“Go to bed, and make haste!”

While they smiled and clinked glasses

Eyes merry with waste.

Sin or no sin, they’d lived happy lives

Though not one of them wished

For their own last sunrise,

Their talk turned to griffons

Chimeras, caged

Of the adder folk, wispins,

And the hobgoblin sage.

Then to coins, politics, breeding,

And age

Then to Parson Gray’s daughter

And her husband’s quick rage.

And the child, silent pouting

Took the steps out of sight

While watching above them,

On that sugar starred night,

waiting to swoop and unleash his blight,

from a speckled blood moon,

where the ghosts go to wed

A  tear fell from the eye

of the grieving Death’s head.