Tag Archives: time

a walk in the years


on cool air, pumpkins are hauled from the fields
stalks, dried and withered, rustle in the breeze
yellow spreads through the treetops of the tallest oaks
i build an evening fire when wind-chill becomes a factor
under crisp skies, pink rivulets stretch from the sunset

since adulthood, i know what happens next
the familiar routine becomes a psychological battle
the rush of familiar faces say hello but refuse to delve deeper
possibly, there are dangerous ideas hiding behind countenance
i smell chlorine seeping from under the correctional center door

once throwing a football in dead leaves, a childhood flashes by
reality is an old man, memories draining—unable to stem the flow
wishing i had written down observations of an earlier time

creating pictures is something i should have done a long time ago
training the eye/hand with a yearning to print pictures in black ink
and a want to render body parts coming out of objects

the ocean temperature steadily drops and the beaches are abandon
stuck in time for two million years, the sturgeon is found dead
it’s spiny body, washed-up on dawn’s gray shore
extending further than my prehistoric grasp
the walk has taken me outside the minutia of the day
in puzzled fascination—to the realization of a grand picture

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i pass through the hourglass, relative to you

warm bronze momentum, the dance
                   a mindless passage through the narrows of a glass world
an hourglass – blown into shape by the creep of evolution
a cradle for fragile eggshell minds; but spirits of the dead still enter
                   to brace against the unexpected of everything that is expected

every person’s fabric stitched together in a day, by thin strands of relationship
the constructs are formed so delicate, that they can unravel at any moment
                   ephemeral but to be placed under the rock – the rock of ritual

the rock is pulverized into sand by the wave, and curved glass distorts vision
                   pressed against the cold barrier, you come face to face with life’s futility
to perceive as forever, to create new realities through a mind that loves and hates
                   the damage that is done
                   how do we once again, feel our planet’s rhythm?

familiar repetition delivers false hope – an unrealistic comfort, a tropical panacea
einstein’s equations are full of black holes
the gravity slave must be constantly turned over, again and again by vigilant hands
                   we pass from one globe to another
                   to stand alone among the others
                   a measure, of that which is relative

relative? relative to what? relative to me, relative to you
                   the relativity of me to you and the sunset
                   bleeding fire through the glass
we pass the day, traveling back and forth through the neck of our own construct

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where for you

i was wondering
would you come?
seeking visions
to the edge of individuality
where for you
the seasons
will go uncounted

where for you
plato’s world of forms
will illuminate circularity

where for you
the cosmos
will bathe eternal skin in dark matter

where for you
small streams of giant koi
will break the ego’s surface tension

where for you
ripe peaches
will crack open in the wind of delicate cedar

where for you
will leave trails like footprints from a ghost

where for you
knurled trees
will reach inside conscious dreams of free fall

where for you
miró’s world
will pulse and spin under a purple sea

where for you
the crane
will write poetry
in a broken cocoon of the luna moth

all of this for you
when the water turns silver
and the reeds become prayers of the raptured swan

where for you
all of this, for you

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two faces

published on VerseWrights 05/22/15

two faces facing east and west
two faces looking front to back
two faces coming and going

knowing where you’ve been
knowing where you’re going
unsure of where you are

one head, facing opposite directions

two faces competing for a mind
two faces with eyes that never meet
two faces denying the existence of the other

concealed behind countenance
hidden from the present moment
one face hiding behind the other

one head, of tragedy and comedy

two faces facing north and south
two faces looking up and down
two faces coming and going

knowing a tether to the ground
knowing an infinity in space
unsure of where you place

birth to grave, with no middle

two faces to go the distance
two faces is all you get
two faces and just one neck

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tea time

the tile floor is ever hungry
for delicious glassware
tea kettle screams
“the world inside is wet”
a tea ball full of assam sits patiently
poised to soak up indifference
has time been speeding up?
the oak tree in the backyard
now casts a wider shadow
too many teacups drained
of their sweet summer days
metal spoon clinks purple flowers
another record on the turntable
raindrops fall in the kitchen
wishing they had children
crunching toasted almonds

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