Apr 6 2024

call it hope, or the autumn of living

the avenue where
you ate the last fish

as it held your lost stare
(contemplation’s false glare)

and the dark apple
current
pulling luck under

in the back row seat
of certainty’s corner

we fed our fill
on the silence of empty

and burnished long scars
still shiny with memory

until sky led to sea
in the bed that was always
losing its way

we reached for warm hands
over-stuffed
with the blind weight
of grief

grasping for sand

as it spilled down
clean sheets

and returned to the water

salt bled us

 


Jan 16 2024

hunger strike

eating nothing

but these hours

that devour

and the

black hole distance

between full

and fortified

in the night sky

lost eye

feast

of raw

subsistence

 


Dec 15 2023

the forgotten cave of hope’s lost earthquake

scarred scared and disrepaired
the tagline of last soldiers
loss holders
heart boulders

we are the collection
of collectors
gathering bones and
burying stones

building cairns
in bare memory
corners

and backing away
ever so gently
despite the premise promise
of tumble
and tremor

. . .


Mar 22 2023

holding pattern

these days
my time is turned
paying tribute
to lives lost
or never realized

dreams
a heart wove
as you
shoveled sand
into hourglass
of promise
and empty

all the while
pretending
not to notice
the mountain
you were melting

and mostly

it’s all just air

resting ripe in a bowl
far too damaged
for kintsugi

rift-silent and
hover proud

waiting

[still]

and open

always open

for repair

.

.

listen here

 

 


Mar 17 2023

scattershot

i’ve got all these pieces
shard sharp and jagged edged
heart blood dark
and silence hole

splayed across
this worn wood floor
tracing steps and trapped pretension
as it all rolls uphill
sideways

mirror mirror
pasted smile
fallen glimpses in the corner of reflection
shape shifting
loose oil carnage

and the dream I had
before
our room filled with smoke
my mind-body
shaking us both awake
certain there was fire

i still see the haze each midnight
floating right
above the quilt
i bought
to shelter the you
(or me)
i can never quite
remember

 

 

.

listen here:


Feb 17 2023

bare

stand tall in the light
of your own deliverance

bury nothing
but roots

grow rings
of truth

spin buds
of grace

and wait

time will spin
your story

into fresh green
dappled

shade

 


Feb 8 2023

peripheral revision

i revisit your funeral
in a dream filled with rooms

paint my face crackle-grey
and watch the pink of my tourmaline ring
wash away

every so often
i think i see you

still

every so often
you’re choosing a can of peas
or bringing the cat
you never had in for fleas

and as long as i don’t look

directly at you

i’m certain you’re

saying

i’m game

 

 


Feb 7 2023

zero sum game

here we are again
balancing a sentiment
we will never name

 


Feb 3 2023

on the market

none of us are free

we all come at great cost
to ourselves
to others
to this bold green earth

to those we love
and those we hate
to those
we cannot know

own yourself

pay the price of reflection
add loose change
to the plate of collection

pick up your actions
hold them high
look deeper

examine

have the good guts
to stare yourself
in the eye

have the true grace
to accept
all consequences

own yourself

none of us
are free

 


Feb 1 2023

what i meant to say

the sun is shining just now, but it’s so cold.
the snow is glittering with that false, enticing promise.
beautiful to look at, brutal to hold.

and now i’m thinking of you again.

it’s a vicious circle-cycle.

life and loss and the truth of living.

survival of the fittest.

survival.

of.

we all have our own sky.