Howling
how many times are we surprised to see
ourselves handed up in the stale, smoky yellow
glass of a passing car and think
who
how many times are we confronted with
our lies, their lies, her lies, his lies, dripping
down onto our fallow heads and wonder
why
the right hand knows
what the left hand does
both ears hear where the mouth goes
neither stops, listens, nor follows
how many ways can we look at yesterday
trying to forget the pearls we lost there starving
on the hollow ground and not stop to ask
when
how many days have aimlessly drifted away
from our consciousness into the fat of the wind’s
castrati howling before we trip upon
where
windows opened half way
doors closed half way
shouters opened banging her way
and left me owning the only way
how many, how many, how many standing
in this liquid Mississippi heat at midnight, standing
beneath the blinking, dinking neon inflated ego that ‘Jesus Saves’
saves…
saves?
what
© 2006 rcc (All rights reserved)
Gates of Sorrow
providence give pause
where tomorrow’s evening search
settles with empty hands
and painted eyes imagined but
never the single question finds
buried there in the wanting
surely fallen I dreamed her
huddled there swearing
to the open silent night
awakened to everything lost
in the tiny bits of nothing
falling all around her feet
dead in an armor of quiet words
hidden behind the gloss
of tranquil living
muddy waters run past
the bloody stones still
she can lose herself
in an eddy of abandoned bones
the Shechina will keep her secret
or wash it clean
and the world will brave tomorrow
and I will within predicate caesura slip
out past the gates of all my sorrow
Romancing You
my souls dive
into the joyful beauty of you
where your graceful soul
imagines herself
a dove
a stinging red rose
living water
silent light
and robes herself
in primal purity
to rest with God
interlacing their fires
the stars turn out
in endless space
and sparkle like a hail of gold
upon the waves
where my love’s infinity greets me
swimming in this divine ocean
soft nights in my native sky
languid on a bed of dark brown leaves
the tranquil night
filled by long vague sighs
the perfume of green hills
and you
suns burning in celestial palms
and you
holding sweet spathes which sing and die away
ecstasy to my senses
magnetic vertigoes dancing
where our hearts twirl
free of fear
thought
or words
Coercion
go insane
a game
I learned to play
pain
a friend
I deal with everyday
guilt
the dogma
from which I was taught to pray
death
a debt
I’ve yet to pay
