Sunday, April 24, 2011

sleeping in the letters
trying to straighten a hunched spine
countering the forewardness
because I am too shy to use  

my… my words.

Counter posturing the neck
I rest her light body on my thigh
Unleashing all of the hurt with my fingers
Because she can only feel
my… my words.

I wear it like a blanket
That only I know I have shrouded over me
And how many times I have tried to explain this
But it cannot be expressed  with, my… my words

As I watch the ink run and dry to the concrete  
I cry out into the darkness
“I am fearless! I Am not afraid of anything!”
Especially not the ramifications of

My… my words.

Thursday, April 14, 2011


Somewhere the ginkgo grows
And waits reflecting,
Remembering when the human toccata was a forgotten myth
deep within the metaphors they sought an eloquent synthesis
manifesting it as the kami of all things
carried in that great wave that rose like the river archeron
and fell, with the spirit of Gaia granting them Volta:
 return home to that ancient eloquent forest
where the jin of origin welcomes with open arms
and the kodama beckon to that beautiful place
that always feels like, home

Friday, April 8, 2011

shattered heart prism

What I would give
on nights like tonight  
the faint guitar strum
of your words
content like the fading traffic
the soft rain picking up
echoing time that
slips away inside us
a place where home lives
refracting the statement:
I will come for you.