song fragment (20170710)

we collected teeth along the shore
hey la, hey la, hey la
a necklace shiny and bright made we
hey la, hey la, hey la

a night and forever its length you wore
hey la, hey la, hey la
as i spoke with the voice of the sea
hey la, hey la, hey la

the moon shines pale upon your breast
hey la, hey la, hey la
now for eternity we are dressed
hey la, hey la, hey la

voices in flight (20170515)

consider the old saying
that every time a bell rings
an angel gets its wings

and think of all the times
you have heard a cash register chime
or the wall street stock exchange
or a fire alarm
or the low slow clangs of cowbells
as they are led to the slaughterhouse

what the hell are those angels making
their feathers out of
misery, greed, blood and fire?

i have always preferred birdsong
an earthly tune to be sure
unfettered yet surrounded by sky
even if it is all about territory
and sexual conquest
and where the best worms are

sunken eyes (20170423)

the bird sings the night sky
fading blues to pinks to
the solitary color of its heart

three trills, short
one cry, long
a heartbeat separated by chambers
struck out of order
a solitary sound of night

the rustle of feathers
the quiet of parting leaves
the river of the freeway
the black heart beating


It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 23

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norns (20160703)

the woman sits at the loom
thread in her hands
she measures a cord
an arm’s length equal to
the length of a man’s life

if she coughs
or bored, looks out the window
as she pulls the skein
the measurement
might lack

if she sings freely
a song that makes her smile
or remembers a boy lost
to all but memory
she may add an extra span

she adds no knots
weaves no pattern
that task goes to
a sister already tangling
measured threads

the pattern and the knots
disguise the true length
hiding years, hiding dead ends
hiding where the third sister
kissed it with her blade


the secret keeper
Weekly Writing Prompt #43

on not ruining you (Poem 20160508)

i’m always relieved to see you smile
it means that i didn’t ruin you

(this is a song that i sing to myself)

i used to only hum it but i learned the words
so i could write it down
so i could write a chorus
so i could play guitar during a round at camp by a fire
but i never learned guitar
but i hated camp
but there’s not enough money to get me to lead a round
of anything

you are roses freshly and newly bloomed
and i am the mud staining the thorns
the blemish of mildew on the leaves
aphids attaching and draining

and your smile is the fragrance that spins my head
and if my head were to come clean off
it would sing my song
and i would not regret it