love and other sayings
too big promises don’t keep
Applesauce made from rotten sun
Worms wiggle in
And wild boys run
Summer's love ends in a heap
Fruit made fickle
Rum runneth from whine
Stoned and heavy lies turned sober in rind
Lovers made honest by leap
(with Nathan, November 23, 2023)
wedding song
Into whose eyes does a groom gaze
Whose arms does a bride fall
And to what promise speaks in sacred tones
All these wishing hearts hold every ancient idea of divinity in these rites
Do not worry that love will dissolve
But let it remain the thing which brings you to your knees
May your time remain an invitation to paradise
Where these vows are perpetually returned to and received from the borrowed earth
Our gathered billions and billions of love and blessings :
We are for for you- May nothing therefore be against you
uncommon gold
To the imaginary boy
Out lighting lanterns
Surrendering shadows
A find and seek
Remember you are the spring
A well that is
Nodding at the unkept
Nodding with will
That sits on bended knee
Faith does not come all at once
But, as nostalgia in melancholic pockets
Intangible, smokey numinosity
Fairing dark senses, encountering
Lament you can’t keep
Find that same freedom that wields a sword
Unties the ribbons from my hair
Hung high as silken sails
Educed spiritual stock
Now free from pleading
Don’t throws seeds on the sand
But stay out
Salting salvation
Guard our berthings of warmth
Wrinkle our wet cheeks
pinecone palace
when the seeking weighed heavy
you said, “I did not know you were coming”
in a ruin of windows, no frame
where need left rotting
prisoners
knowing we did not belong
we grew our garden still
self reliance (not)
I want a belly full of passions
with salt enough to tend the field
I want reminders that what fills
the body is not which suspends the soul
I want a back forty gaze
to see at least a look and a half too soon
I want landscape impressions at the tips of my toes
terrified to fade
I want the Saint of Reason
to promise
were not as close to Hell as it seems these days
I want birds nest echoes
of babies at Spring
Ecclesiastic fountains on cedar shelves of our ancestors
certain waters that don’t wane
opus
Having spent his entire childhood in seclusion
In a forest
A King composes a suspended orchestra
Ode to his ocean
His Queen
While king’s speak through the stars
Do the seas give enough?
Do her waters?
Do her flames?
You, the jazz drummer
Sitting on holy grief
Counting out cycles
Through worlds
Through worlds
I want to press piano notes to your lips
So it stains the otherwise reckless thread that grows out
An ensemble I’ll pour light over
Despite
Despite
when your ghost walked out of my eye
I thought we’d die before we arrived
Absent even of what we redeemed
A chariot
Assembled by three
Old bounds of wisdom in cedar coffins
The bearings at sea
Which hold down the pendulum clock’s hands
As the stars rotate across the sky
Decorated, tessellated window pane mountain
Framed by rose petal twine
to follow, to lead
You cannot take people
Where you haven’t gone
Love, bewilderment, peace, grief
Wonder at loss
Surprised at how the ice holds
It’s suspense
The briars don’t break
Unwounded by the persistent winds
Wound by an unfathomable weightlessness
A tight tie to the skies
By and by
The clouds still grow old
old growth
I waited for the bird to come
That had carried your trimmings cast for decades
It’s children, memories
Of your sugary stances
And dripping of words
The love that came from your mouth
It built all it’s careful, patient nests
To practice the form of each tangled twig
Each strand of hair it’s own melody
A warmth in warp and weft
A floating matrix which remains
As infinite as the certainty
That some eggs do fall from the trees
Serpentine opportunities in hanging
celestial return
I couldn’t adore you for just your eyes
A love like ours stakes a claim
Proves our right to existence
And the clothe in your name
I’m worried the moon will stop to persist
My heart will burn up to grey
You can’t ask people for their souls
But scratch out a home, we may
To take pride in hurt
Fallen waste to vapor
Already God spoke, he could not bear without you
Immortality in the heroes we stole
Birth, a salvation of labor
underneath the weeping wall
I want to hold you at a distance
Tight as glass
Inside, a prismatic sphere
Conceived of a misplaced heaven
Although illusory
What if we had bore fruit?
Of your seed reborn
Saved, salvation?
No, perpetual regeneration
The just repetition of a pattern
Doesn’t allure
Doesn’t elect Good
As time made God’s
Fast feet
Envious of our iconoclasts’ hope
You brush yourself from the earth
The illness of the wit
Wields their weapons, sharper
Their temples deeper
Buried even
Like some creature
Not allowed
But
I hold a sanctuary of bones
Their faith in each
Of the flowers
Grace laid
After your thrown
As the vines recover
Their hearth, their haunt
Bury me while claiming
You were exiled
Promise you pleaded
return to fern
In the mountains by the sea
I thought that you should marry me
Chests of cedar hold secrets sacred
And wild blue eyes often leered
Should there be a fawn
Mimicking in hand and tail and yawn
Although we may not fall from grace
Our ties are bound to lace
Surely the waves will atone
Our withered bodies alone
Time just an ocean now
Absent of your open mouth
poem
I was upside down
in that garden of rose
the blood had fallen from fingers even
a flow with prose
the electrical shock that you were
an unassuming glance, a modest word
it wrestled, tangled with myrrh
how still can we love and play
when we rest in the sky
decaying in grey
a pinky promise
ought and solace
pause
I’ll bring you the acorns you need
And bury the kisses you don’t
Forsake the arrows you’re thought to repute
We’re ought to create the borderlands between
Realty and reverie
A self-correcting Neverland
Arrival at the unacknowledged terrain of the sincerity
When the card of time is pulled
Does the rise of the Phoenix compete with God
Where beauty may contradict itself
Your virtue remains continuous
A proportional exaggeration of itself
moral containers
I dreamt you told me of Goethe
Institutionalized holding of hands
Tongue organized within cheek
A foreshadowing balance of chess
Their stained-glass reception
Didn’t grant receipt but temptation
Arms of chairs sweltering
Too translucent for beauty
Too opaque for dialogue
How much free are you willing to bargain for
you, if not; if not, you
Ego beaded gold drips from the sun
Hold as the alter of celebration
A journey, inncorruptible and true
Worth hums in every last while
As a potent and brilliant evil pushes at the created shapes
Of a pure fleece left out to dry
Untitled moments of divination
Tired soles still may impregnate the wind
How much blood ought you owe
For the pursuit of a just rebellion
The skies remain in awe of your revolutions
karmic cleansing
Impassioned callouses
Shelter from the mundane
And the adminstration of scales which disect and
Palm the mortal coil
Inspire a deep yearning breath
As more sigh than yawn
More awe than gasp
Eyes that shine on soft wrinkles
Illuminate a gaze uncorrupted by fear
To measure a will amidst
Sea pines with needles bolted such that
Winter is hanging from their skin
Innoculate from the tragic trap of abstracted reverie
Stealing embrace, enrapture
Pinches and grasps
Substance of the sun, never to negate
The metals themselves surely strive for morality
the delicate peach
Fullness to the degree of not lacking
All that could is devoured
A surprise
As pure as
Unexpected laughter
A concert of consciousness
Derived from an inky symphony of self
Not another, but the other, only
Evoking that aroma of interiority
To denomalize
And melt
Into the rich transmutable amalgum
Where the canon sticks
And echoes
We’re all magic here