Sep 11 2022

nine eleven

twenty-one years later
that’s what we call it

not nine eleven oh one
not September 11, 2001
just
nine eleven

two words

three digits

two towers

four planes

thousands

of

mothers
fathers
daughters
sons
sisters
brothers
wives
husbands
aunts
uncles
girlfriends
boyfriends

not statistics

falling

from

the

sky

not dates
or where were you’s

just whole hearts
in odd numbers

each one

the only necessary

evidence

of love

::

.

.

I wrote this for the 10-year anniversary
of this tragic, horrid event.
I am re-posting it again today, in honor of all those hearts.
Never forget.

.


Sep 11 2022

building glass houses

because all the mirrors
are broken
and your reflection

always hung
slightly crooked

framed by deckled edge
and past perturbance

and i
forever-settled
for the spot-speckled
lower left corner

while you took
center stage
with your soliloquy
of silence


Sep 1 2022

sitting on the ground in all sorts of places

and today I’m at the edge

of waves and water
water and waves

rolling sound and
rumbling cloud

tumble stumble
roam-rambling
around and around
and around

bent clock chiming
a litany of blue
false mirror memories
written only in sand

waves and water
water and waves

wearing down bone-sharp corners and
twisted-knife wounds

bash-crashing
ripple dancing
up the coast of blind deception

drowning out the sound
of simple silence
concealed in the shade
of broken boulders

pounding
washing
polishing
clean

these broken-tainted
pickled ghosts
drinking rich
from thirst’s existence

 


Jul 31 2022

it’s sunday and no one can fix my sky

and everything i gave you was lost
and everything you took from me was broken
and today it’s just me

and

this blanket and this cat
and this blue brutal happiness of nothing
and i have nowhere to go
nowhere to put these feelings
everywhere i try to set them down

starts a fire

it’s sunday and no one
can fix my sky.

 

 


Apr 30 2022

let’s talk about decay

and

the beauty of brittle

the freedom of

letting go

holding hands with life’s sadness
old loves on a corner
with no place to meet

the silence of soliloquy

or the tree
that falls
to tell its own story

setting seed

also known as

forgiveness


Apr 14 2022

spring like summer

windows
wide open
for a moment
of fresh

inhale
exhale
bounce off
horizon

bird song dawn
and sunset singing

we’re all here
spreading green

it’s all new
all old
the same
same
circle

always here
lending

a hand


Apr 10 2022

on managing expectations

yesterday i saw
just floating along
on this river of tall information
a tiny white scrap
inscribed with the words:

survival isn’t enough

a meme or a tweet or a post by a host
dropped by someone post-haste in the knowing
as with so many lines caught deep in the waves
of this infinite brick-brackish water

and i smiled to myself
just a flash
before thinking
oh child just you wait
because darling
survival
is
plenty

and yes
there is always much more
we can do with its gift
more to learn
more to love
more to cherish

but oh, my friend

in the color of end

survival
is quite simply

being


Apr 4 2022

scars in jars and other bold things

watching the way you peeled an onion
hiding tears in a scented candle
rose-sandlewood-something when really
it was the smell of smoke you hoped to hide
long after you’d quit and we both knew
it was him again
lingering in places you’d already scoured
as i peeled carrots, chopped celery, sliced
a moon down the side of one finger
before either of us noticed it was raining
and you were gone


Apr 1 2022

1. april fools (LIX)

it’s friday again
and also

snowing

the birds breathe fire
and singe the cat’s hair
and i’m finally able
to say:

spring

(but no one hears me)


Sep 11 2021

nine eleven

twenty years later
that’s what we call it

not nine eleven oh one
not September 11, 2001
just
nine eleven

two words

three digits

two towers

four planes

thousands

of

mothers
fathers
daughters
sons
sisters
brothers
wives
husbands
aunts
uncles
girlfriends
boyfriends

not statistics

falling

from

the

sky

not dates
or where were you’s

just whole hearts
in odd numbers

each one

the only necessary

evidence

of love

::

.

.

I wrote this for the 10-year anniversary
of this tragic, horrid event.
I am re-posting it again today, in honor of all those hearts.
Never forget.

.