unbroken sky wall
without seams it leaks and weeps
to make a mirror
Tag: write
esprit accompli (20170202)
standing just beyond my door
and no one saw but me
moon-like face so ghostly pale
and eyes a dead white sea
skin of alabaster stone
her wild hair untamed
shrouded in her burial clothes
she bade me ask her name
jaw unlocked, i spoke her name
she nodded at me twice
turned to ash and then to air
for that was naming’s price
——
shadows are the ghosts of rainbows (20170201)
stand in one spot long enough
and you can watch
the passage of time
the shadow spinning
around the trunk of a tree
like a slow drunk
but what substance, shadow
what substance
only this
–the chill of stepping into you,
–the graying of colors,
–the long dead dust of the sun
settling on your shoulders
and drying you out
blind sculpting the blind (20170131)
tonight i sculpted a back
not life-sized
–maybe three-quarter–
and somehow
i got it not quite right
the back was receding
as if just then turned away
and headed off to parts
unknowable
insert remark about
having seen enough backs
in that position
engaged in that act
of abandonment
that i should have been
able to push that clay around
blind
the line of breaking light (20170130)
we await the turning of the earth
pretending we turn it
beneath our feet
but that which is shifting
is inside us
a tidal force within
the pit of our stomachs
guiding our sleepy eyes
toward the horizon
and the first light
of dawn
getting old on sunday (20170129)
i noticed the skin
on the side of my left hand
below the smallest finger
at the joint of the wrist
and thought
what old man is that
attached to
as it typed
at my keyboard
veins like a relief map
made of flour, salt, and water
Out Like a Lion
Yes, friends, here are TWO more entries in the first Open Mic Invitational of 2017. Of course, it’s so near the end of the month, that February’s Open Mic Page will soon go live. So if you missed out this time, or if you just want to keep this party going, you still have time.
The first new entry is from Stephanie L. Harper. You can hear the audio here (where you find a link to the words as well); check out her site here.
The other entry is by me. It was the fourth most popular poem on the site in 2016. Some language in this one… Listen here.
the origins of sculpture (20170128)
o, unlucky bastard who dug
uncovering wet sticky globs of clay
not for planting, but for
the first grave he ever had to dig
grimy and covered in filth
did he know the worth of those
handfuls of red earth that made it
impossible to grow his crops
did he have the capacity to
imagine or to indulge in idle
thought about that dense earth
that squeezed through his fingers
that kept the impression of his
thumbprint, his fingernails, his toes
did he make an image of a child lost
an image that baked in the sun
did he remember an old story
of life entering the earth
as breath or did he make that up
himself, and did he not
try to resurrect that child
did he not breathe into that clay
did he not rise with lips red and wet
his own lungs empty
New! Open!! MIC!!!
Robert Okaji (his site is O at the Edges) has sent me a new entry for the January 2017 Open Mic Page. Can you believe it? I’ll post at least one more entry of my own before the month overtakes us all.
In the meantime, please head over to the January 2017 Open Mic Page to listen to Robert’s velvet tones, and make sure to stop by his site (if you aren’t already following him). If you don’t, you are missing out.
three days after rain (20170127)
the wind rustles
inhaling the moisture
chimes ring like rain
Words and Feathers 