muse impromptu

hyperfine

words
        are insufficient things; mere approximations
        of myriad sensual fragments.
words
        can't convey the thrill of hands
        sifting through her long hair.
words
        only hint at the exquisite transparency
        of sunset after the midday rains
        have washed the grit from the sky,
        when the air shrugs off its shabby careworn cloak
        and every edge sparkles, like clear gold.
words
        can't encompass the long embrace,
        the profound rightness, the peace,
        shared between lovers:
        face pressed between neck and shoulder;
        this moment of breathing; a quiet bubble.

words aren't always needed.

a thousand little fires

you’ve got a body like a signature
white-knuckled tune curling the sparking wire
you’re the lone sweat-slicked fist
scorched eyes in your spotlight
and tonight you’ve got the answer
faces upturned to your bronze lips
an acid romance for every bandaged heart
so untwist your hair and brandish your tumult
shift the serpent round your wrist
tonight you’ve got all the answers

silence

silence

is not always golden

silence

lets me listen to you

silence

does not speak for itself

silence

can provoke ensnare bridge mend evoke

SILENCE

is an invitation

climbing to fall

climbing to fall
make a wish upon our star
i was a warrior, now seeking peace
what will my ashes say about me?
sevenfold hell spiralling deeper, deeper

climbing to fall
make a wish upon our star
i'm terrified, petrified, please set me free
break my nose, peel back my skin
trade the white bird for the phoenix within
i'm a man of God, reaching to touch Your face
we've travelled so far; give us one last minute of Grace--

climbing to fall
make a wish upon our star

one day/une heure

one day and one hour
waterdrops like quivering
slivers of eternity cascade
down her open palm.
the echoes of
un jour et une heure
slide into nightfall
and curl around her dark heart.
les étoiles doucement baignent
le visage du rêveur

anticipate

a ghost in the microphone, a tremor between mindscapes
and the crowd gathered like fireflies in a bottle.
feet apart, riding the glitter and crash of silver dreams,
i face the night with a recipe for change,
a soft-webbed fable spinning down into your marrow.

step into the mirror with nothing between us
but the electric jitter of half-voiced truth.
i look out over the tumult of faces and hands
and i face the night with a recipe for change,
a sharp-edged collision of decibels and revelation.

writer's prayer

give me an ethic for weaving truths,
the common sense of good poetry,
a persistant spirit of creativity,
discernment between inner and outer visions,
a thousand perspectives all rolled into one,
clear, wandering, purposeful passion
in word, thought, and heart,
a resistance to dark nights' suicide and misspelling,
    and above all,
working relationships between hand,
    brain,
        reader,
            and you.
and when you get a moment,
i've been out of a job for a week,
the rent's due, the table's empty, and i'm down
to my last
        pencil.

tesseract serenade

the negative spaces blur; i see them so clearly now:
their pretty periwinkle lines smugly held before them,
all in a neat little row. i go around, whistling
a forlorn little tune, skirting the singularity.
i hop, skip, and listen as the dimensions warp around
my footsteps; cascading echoes of cosmic fantasy.

i am enthralled by the pale void. it is a wonder, this
mystery of time and place and spaces to fill the gaps.
yet i crave the warmth of your arm, of your side, your subtle
fascination. i languish in this cold, distant darkness.
only your eyes can rival the spinning constellations.

galatea revisited

                     are lovers glad?only their smallest joy's
                     a universe emerging from a wish

        kisses of the maker sweetly showered
on her cheek, mingled with falling petals.
        "you taste of peaches," he said,
she the bouquet to his tired eyes,
        she the silken starlight about his heart
entwined, and her smile gently swept his hand.

Meaning (Message)

Poetry is the thing that is hard to say;
The stone, the fear, the kiss:
Things that are unsaid,
But words are used to say them.
The written world in more than word,
Articulated in color, the vision
Embodied by the artist.
It is a moment through closed eyes;
Eternity in a single falling drop,
To say,
    "I love you."

Moon and Fading Ice

The princess on the rose table lies
Sweet fragrance and windblown hair
Will you hold close the key and your dark eyes?
Jasmine and crimson warm the cold obsidian
Their rhythmic drip hastens my intoxication
and quickens the night

Starlight pools, stretches under my hand
Mirrors and sapphires bend to my touch
Silver shadows awaken to familiar caresses
My eye in your mind,
Your mind through my eyes
Kaleidoscope dreams about me entwine
Sifted time, cloaked legions' haunting cry

Raven Parade

On the corner of Broadway
and Kent, a fallen dream fluttered
down, broken and bent
I swept it off the sidewalk, just another shuffle of my feet
I've already been there, already abandoned
my fame; I was a bright shining star,
now I've only the raven to mock my name
A cast-off coat, I trudge through flurries of ash and memories
Dark feathers on the street sign, one eye on me
hoping for scraps of sentiment and ink
I listened, I waited, I was venerated;
You drew the line, a bit of my pride slipped through
the crack, the raven for my sham serenade
I've got my cares in my knapsack
My trappings--a cigarette, a fedora, tickets for two
I lead off my jaunt to the raven's rap-tat-tapping

Rain on Glass

Final exit for this road behind
You turn your head, leave the
memories of grime and tears pooled
somewhere between sunset and shadow
These firebright coils and loops unbound
at last, you fly free above it all

Don't step down on this bloody earth,
your frosted purity gleaming among
fields of roses; don't give in to hope,
the end of the fragile pendulum
bending morning light, reflections
playing diamond dust on your face

Together, we saw the world
in multichrome, yet the uptempo
eclectic exterior hid fading euphoria
and whispers behind your dark mirror
Ashes of ragged letters sleep
deep in prisms, furies haunting my dreams

Knots

What have I become that you can't see
me for what I am, the face
painted on your mirror with glitter
and lipstick halos; I never can
be your trinket clothed in white
Chasing self respect and lunar planes, you
are the midnight to my day
Falling deeper, spiraling circles cross
bright pools and words between us
Blinded by a million flashing stars,
you twirl through neon dreams, that smile
reflected inversely, fingerprints streaking
sweet paper hearts; the glimmers of me

Twilight in Silk

Thin rain of flames,
scarlet threads entwining
and binding eyes that see deep
to the bottom of your mirror
and the detritus of your soul
I was taken by whirling colors
and entrancing gaze for but a moment
Here was all there was to be had,
a slow freefall into your dark embrace

In my temptation now comes my hour,
I long for the candle revisited, an endless
drifting horizon blue to blue; the last
destination veiled in cold shadows
On wings of angels I return,
arrows bleeding out my sorrow
The memories of your haunting touch
tainted with madness patient and
longing, I slip beneath the waves

Forever Sojourn

And so I walk into the sunset,
Blood and lightning tracing my steps
There's nowhere I am welcome,
No shady refuge from the dusty heat
Twice you've pled with me,
Holding my hand and my heart

But your honey is my nightshade;
This bitterness ends with a kiss
For I am contemptible; a fallen star
Though chained, kept apart from you
And your hidden designs on the passerby

Was it cold serendipity, my jewel?
Just another plaything wrapped in silk
But this fragile fortune had a voice,
And I picked up your broken shards,
Saw the true reflection within and knew
I am only colored by myself

So I walk on through the fading day,
Footprints sprinkled with scarlet,
No clouds to cover my head
Twice I've been scorned by your viper's kiss
I need no sentiment, no sad refrain;
I welcome this endless road

Strains

Silent passage over rivers of night
Slow drifting auburn threads
A caress, an open hand; delicate crystal shatters
Wine and blood mingle, tracing the satin edge of lips
Crimson drops slick your diamond tears
Our future's promise locked away in velvet ebony
There is only the here and now
Our soft whispered words, our tumble across shifting stars
Growing heat, outstretched fingers
Let me touch your face
As we brush aside the moonlight

Aura Darkness

Dream into dream, another day begins
Twilight fantasy swirls around me,
Gentle mists of time and slumber
Follow me to the edge of the world

This labyrinth for my mind,
This limitless prison of wonders
Enthralls me; I am with you, you with me
Hold out your hands, fill them with golden morning

Echoes of thoughts and ancient valleys
Surround us now, twinkling into oblivion
Dance with me, here on the world's end
Under the symphony of the stars

Whitewashed Rose

On this eternal road, I'm just a dime a dozen
No superman, no wings; just another average joe
Another sunset, another mile marker
I can see myself in the mirror, I can see your smile
Early to rise, early to sleep, another fitful day
Humdrum clockwork sweeps by me

I've left my shooting star behind
My flight from earth delayed
For me, no twilight serenade,
No laughter or velvet shine

Soulless delight, you're a thousand words and a morning
You've got a crutch and a trophy and my empty hand
I've been silk and granite too long
Tonight, mirage and demons clash, my muse
You've run too far from me, my princess
Sliding downhill in a flurry of ice

I've left my shooting star behind
My flight from earth delayed
For me, no twilight serenade,
No laughter or velvet shine

I turn back my watch to the day we first met
No superman, no wings; just plain self
Sigh and another weary frown
I've smoothed your brow, seen you dance
My world, my meadow, my harp's song
Rock our shadows to sleep and dreams

I've left my shooting star behind
My flight from earth delayed
For me, no twilight serenade,
No laughter or velvet shine

Gentle Rain

Walking home down the lane,
Watching puddles and lines flow by underfoot,
Wind smearing tears on my cheeks,
Time and lights blur together again

Pieces of my heart tumble about,
Blown to and fro by the bitter chill
I remember the warmth of holding you close
Somehow I stumble on, here in my dark hour

If I could touch the stars
I would place them around your neck
And we would dance amid glittering streams of light,
My lovely

Won't you sing your angel song
To these eyes of a million roads
Won't you hold these dusty shoulders
And chase away the patchwork clouds

Pieces of my heart tumble about,
Blown to and fro by the bitter chill
I remember the warmth of holding you close
Somehow I stumble on, here in my dark hour

Dark Night

Who am I these days
I look at the displays of failure
I wonder why at night I cry out for healing
But nothing changes; what am I still embracing?

Lord, take away my pride
Lord, open my eyes to the light of your love
Lord, soften my heart with your blood

I don't know what holds me in the grip of this disease,
I act without regard of consequence
Why is it so hard to surrender to your control
Of this struggle within my soul?

Lord, I'm between heaven and earth
Lord, I'm dying inside; burn me with your fire
Lord, watch over my soul as a father to his child

Midnight Angel

Prisoner of my own desire
Dragging my feet past hollow white pillars
Here in my courtyard are all the echoes of acclaim;
Totems I built of you

Who'll have me now that my spark left me
For adventure and a pair of wings
What do they say about you now, midnight angel--
You were given another chance to play in the rain

Blackened roses for sentiment,
Bitter tears and paper hearts
I watched you walk away, my midnight angel
A candle in a storm

Nearly Distant

Twice I have lived,
Twice I have died
I turn to the past,
The echoes of my cry
I remember

The lingering sadness
of painful passage
Yet future promise brightens my eyes
I trust

Though night cloaks me,
Though heat scorches me,
Though my voice dies,
Yet your love enfolds me
I believe

Deeper

Flitting between the leaves,
Casting sharp-edged shadows rimmed with silver,
Petals in relief against pearlescent luminescence
Radiance flutters wings, sparkling dust streams
Playful among dreams, duet with ephemeral steps
Thorns brought to light hide the wonder of unseen laughter

Death #2

Spring off the edge into the blue calling
Fly high - close your eyes; I'm there by you
Numbness spreads by my desire
Passion takes hold
Leap, soar, beckon closer, feel the joy

Metahuman,
On top of the world below
Step, prepare, smile
Your eye has become the deep mirror
See my smile, almost, almost
Fall into my arms as I embrace you
With sun-warmed falsehood
Never letting go
I clutch you with unfeeling concrete

Liquid Rays

With the rising of the sun
Colors in the gray world are revealed
An angel's wings herald the dawn
Over the face of the sea, molten gold
Edges the waves, and the shore
Sparkles with diamond radiance.
Warmth enfolds the eager earth,
Echoing the luminescent music.
The breath of life stirs
From its sleep, and greets
The new mercy with joy

Surrender from Myself

In the heady heights of reality,
I am nothing but
Frail skin and bones
My life's clay dictates its will,
I presume I am solo
But from the wind I hear
That I have fallen
I am troubled in my spirit
Through the open door
A ray of light shines on
The window, and I
Sink deeper into the past
I have wrought with my own hands
I hear my name called,
Amidst the twilight of the desert
The turmoil of waves breaking on
My consciousness consumes me,
Until I take the step to
The edge of the world

Forteinfinitessimal

To sleep, perchance to dream
To think, perchance to ponder
The willy-nilly ditherings
Of the niggardly fruitations
Of constant blithering blissful
Meditations of an overworked psyche
An auspicious moment, when
The depths of contemplation are delved
To find the remains of ages extinct
A glorious, charitous profundity
Credited to the poorer conniptions
Of the shabby thoughts of mortals
In the end, after all, who is
The more intellectual: the philosopher,
With his frowning perusions,
Or the poet, with his wandering
Pen rambling obtusely on subjects confusing?