(2013)
poem about how sometimes you really just can't force your poems out.
The words are muffled and shifting… The pounding won’t stop, the fraye… I hold onto a thread, a little blu… The tension is mine; it is a pain… Frenzied energy drains from my fin…
Bickering tree frogs Endless croaking back and forth Dream a soothing song One where two branches can meet In this capital forest
To hide in plain sight Something we all yearn for, but Our differences Do not belong in the mud For mud cannot be polished
A sudden rain flux A faintly calling whisper To turn off eyelids Yet I cannot shake my dream For just another hour
Foggy morning sky Your veil remains untouched by The flags of Autumn How cruel of you to kidnap Such keen keepsakes of your kin
My White Cloak Part one: Place Entering day by day (1) Into a place to grow and stay Into the foundational walls of old
Ask me who he is A tall tree and branches keen words drop; leaves shaken I try to collect them all But forget them by the stream
Scattering shy leaves Skittering down two by two In Fall’s breeze they sink Forming such a golden path Blind-folded hearts can follow
Perplexity breathes Into the hearts of all men In heart beat matters We shy our true intent like An elephant in the vent
A natural fog Too tired to remember Dowsing memories Broken alarm clock weeping Woe be to his faint tick, tock
Fresh Seattle rain Cleanser more of soul than streets I envy that sound Such simple pure harmony Don’t forget that umbrella!
Such an empty sky Countless pensive glances are Over and over Swallowed swift, before their time If only I could keep them
Just for a moment To glimpse from dusty pages A single white flash Tenuous seconds follow Until a roaring reply
A stone for a head A dauntingly fragile nose Sudden convulsions To lay my head down in peace My vestigial heart begs
A sudden waking From formless blinking through dre… Please, just one more year! Surprised to glance the moon’s fac… An hour before her phase
