Tag Archives: prose

outnumbered

the doctor
crawling your space

in midocean
turning princesses

into fingernails
count how many fingers

count again
with wisdom

with thirteen toes my dear
slowly move your mouth with tears

remind yourself what its like to live in a bottle
discovering youth

discovering eyelids
its flutter

its coming to pass
its mercy its christ

well come touch me
come touch a copy of you

as its written
trace the glass

the numbered days
like a cat

bite through this through all
fall in love with time

A thousand hands

kilometers noting the crevices
separating our space
needy is me my dear

jubilantly shaking bed rails
where something wonderful touched
secretly the most serious love ever felt

this momentous beautiful silence
is dedicated to you
this path of stones aligning bedrooms

where a garden now sits instead of hardwoods
flooring filled with lilies
feeling the immensity of this heat

their petals feet flap us fancy
in full fragrance we savor
the sting the sacred sting involving our hands

Obligating Hums

surely we’ve met in midair
sometime ago

your stubborn neck disregarded my smile
apologetically you stirred these mediums
the melancholic instruments attached to my head

on a solid oaken table we wrote
the aloofness of a spell
critiquing the crafty shapes

with your index finger you pointed at me

and shivered

i waited

and thickened your space very slowly

my voice reached your core
i knew then how bitter your loneliness was
tempting these souls to write

and with your little murmur
a flame in my chest i saw
i slowly began to weep

you stroke my head listening to me pray
softening my thoughts
the names that inhabit my soles

the steady pure familiar calm
the wind the golden faces inside this life of mine
designed for staying here

urging trumpets to melodically banner my heart tonight .  .  .

Curving Corners

love for me is

particles wandering about the moon

craziness chasing my veins

round

round

punctually beating hearts

patiently

patiently

as mine quietly nods

like someone trying not to laugh

dimples

dimples

lines molding my mouth

it lives in everything

sacredly and timidly touching

touching

touching

skilfully moving my soul

my personal blood

and with this blood

i tell the world about us

our thousand tailors desperately sewing at our feet

for this love surely fabrics

exclaiming in the sweetest of ripeness evermore

LOVE . .

Rewriting Prayers

for hours i stand here
welcoming the enormous ceremonies
they travel slowly towards me

with mouthfuls of stones i meditate
their language softly lamps my eyes
i ask for relief

for the cloud-cloths to replace my skin
without shyness my body curls
ivies now take over my legs

i have found myself
leaning on hillsides rewriting this prayer
where God stumbles upon me shouting instructions

for I have visited this world too many times
breathing the barbed-wire swamps
where afternoons fear to dusk

rising out of rough weeds i write now
with energy i write now
i write with the explicable faith made of grass