tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87599508507461814852024-03-14T05:19:04.063-05:00after the droughte of marchmy attempt to participate in national poetry writing monthdaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-20884947696164114892013-04-05T15:09:00.003-05:002013-04-05T15:09:20.894-05:00Bedtime<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Winding down, descent into bedtime, the plane <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
is landing. Rough sheets, honest & white.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dog curled up on his pillow, a life less <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
material, yet more bound. I drop the books, <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I drop the pen. The sunlight falls on open <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
grass and shatters into pieces the dreamworld’s <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
colours are clearer, the rainbow’s shards brighter.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Too clear, I’ve dropped my body. I fiddle with my toe ring.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My list of books to read is growing; the list <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
of books to forget is forgotten. The mosaic <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
lamp casts its aura - broken rainbow glass.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Look, Dax, tomorrow starts another
life,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
with every sun that rises we are born<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
with every sun that sets it rises for someone<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
else. It’s time to go
to bed, you dolt.<o:p></o:p></div>
daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-34388275775291159822013-04-04T22:18:00.002-05:002013-04-04T22:18:57.473-05:00RevelationThat last patch of snow was no match for the Sun<div>
Helios Anesti, begone Felon Winter</div>
<div>
Today the green leaves began their appearance</div>
<div>
The dog was giddy from all the scents</div>
<div>
Revealed by the Earth's unfreezing</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Through the Back Bay, the pond in the Garden</div>
<div>
Waiting for water, people gathering in sunlight</div>
<div>
The buds split open to reveal the start</div>
<div>
Of a pink bloom, flowerbirth</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Revelation, all the crap and sticks</div>
<div>
The snow was hiding, lost items</div>
<div>
Barrettes and gloves, dog shit</div>
<div>
Bright enough light for all to see</div>
<div>
The world that was so ice clean and white</div>
<div>
Is now dirty, and this is the one time of year</div>
<div>
We admit we like it that way</div>
daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-74195026640101847702013-04-03T16:30:00.001-05:002013-04-04T16:46:20.453-05:00If a dream<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If a dream can catch on twines suspended by </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">my head, it seems a wretch like me can ask</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">for more light & green than smoke & grainy </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">pellets of snow. Spring – waiting for </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">magnolia undeterred by today’s flurry</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">it came as it went – surprising it might seem </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">muscular tension would dissipate in steam </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">like threads in a design, but you can walk </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">around the building for several days and not </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">know if it’s winter still or spring yet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-4452976671576007842013-04-02T20:32:00.001-05:002013-04-02T20:32:24.746-05:00Sunset thunderstormI burned away the grain<br />
the rain coloured everything<br />
birds uncovered the plot<br />
secret garments rended<br />
the mergansers are still absent<br />
there is no train to Bermuda<br />
<br />
Why did the lemons drop<br />
their flowers and never leaf?<br />
The sun's pain shone fervent<br />
effervescent air, clouds, rain<br />
froth of madness choking<br />
gulls blown off course<br />
the full bloom there lacking<br />
pale petals, only stamens.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-46961535050332825552013-04-01T21:06:00.000-05:002013-04-02T14:08:18.330-05:00Easter Monday<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If there was an extra soul<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">to break open when the first<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">was worn down, it was needed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Mondays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The burst appendix,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">the foreign visitor, the rum,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">all the rum, Jesus Christ.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">We couldn’t help but turn away<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">and run off, hoping for sunshine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Feisty devils, they caught up,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">the stray vultures, dying of thirst.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">He spoke unheeded, they couldn’t<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">hear him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t hear him<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">but I saw his lips moving<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">and the scowls of his confederates<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">and knew it was time to go home.</span></div>
daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-77777499433474187452007-04-30T21:15:00.000-05:002007-05-02T21:25:22.024-05:00last poemthis bed is too big, I roll<br />in my sleep seeking warmth,<br />breathing, these sheets go<br />to waste - I hear every frog<br /><br />chirping in the night every<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">thrushie</span>’s peep the buzz<br />of the electric fan lulls me<br />in this silence marked most<br /><br />by the absence of your breathing<br />the dull thud of my heart promises<br />to send up bile, my hands<br />shake, I reach for you in the night<br /><br />and find only memory the hairs<br />on my arm tickle me anew<br />the sun is bright and the air<br />is not poison but still I ache for youdaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-72113541196225929232007-04-29T21:14:00.000-05:002007-04-30T09:22:44.372-05:00Night drips downA drop hits my bald head<br />I reach to feel the wetness of rain on my scalp<br />no I look at my fingers and they are ink<br />I move my eyes to the ceiling<br />blue and white, not gray<br />but in the very middle<br />the highest point of sky is a black spot<br />wet with ink dripping<br />this night instead of filling the eastern sky<br />and dropping like a dusky western curtain<br />is pooling in the middle completely black<br />the spot grows, the sky soaks in the dark<br />the whole sky will be taken before long<br />a new way of becoming night<br />if I ever forget to thank you<br />for sending the sun every day<br />may my life be bothered constantly<br />by gods that look like humansdaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-77814471209804715122007-04-28T23:36:00.000-05:002007-04-29T00:37:48.579-05:00Roosters Oceanroosters crow, crows caw, macaws screech<br />screech owls whinny, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">winnies</span> eat honey<br />honey is silent but bees hum, hummers roar<br /><br />roars stifle and stifles bury, berries stain<br />and stain brings wood to life after its blood<br />is leached by sun and rain. rain patters<br /><br />and patters are well fresh and fresh is a feeling<br />rarely felt these soiled days. days go on and on<br />suns set and hiss as they hit frothing ocean.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-39843492493937799302007-04-27T09:36:00.000-05:002007-04-29T00:36:43.042-05:00frieda kahloparrot with flames of hair, wings end in hands<br />his hands are clean in the clear moonlight of the islands<br /><br />I am not a demon he declares with bloody teeth<br />trees behind bleed sap and green smells like death<br /><br />there were many thousands trolling the graves<br />only he survived the night the earth heaved<br /><br />whoever can look at him directly will turn<br />into me, but I will have grown thorns.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-21891834160505570682007-04-26T14:35:00.000-05:002007-04-29T00:35:47.750-05:00books are for reading the life that you want<br />into being alone – all the same, intelligent<br />monkeys can claim to have known the scent<br /><br />of uprising, obscene and spectacular, burrowing<br />into the quiet <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">betweens</span> of the heart, narrowing<br />choices and feeling brows gone to furrowing.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-17416617766310566012007-04-25T12:34:00.000-05:002007-04-29T00:35:06.538-05:00roosters crow different at noon, bleached<br />houses glare their white back to over sky<br />above there is only blue and white, so simpledaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-17312494280324858532007-04-24T11:32:00.000-05:002007-04-29T00:34:13.609-05:00variations on a line I thief from Øyvind Bergthe silence rasps<br />these loons rise up so<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">thistly</span>, no serious poesy<br />those lying icy hours pass<br />the soil once rosy pays.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-22715321158806269222007-04-23T20:24:00.000-05:002007-04-23T20:26:34.049-05:00Can't DoneToday the rain can’t done – every gut<br />is spoiled with mud and rocks spilled down the hills<br />and roads – spewing the island’s blood into<br />the chalky green harbor – it’s now the drought<br />decides to end? On Wednesday midnight thousands<br />plan to take to darkened streets and dance –<br />For who? For life. No gods that wait to send<br />their rain and clouds till now get love from us.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-80951500575985534912007-04-22T20:20:00.000-05:002007-04-23T20:24:25.836-05:00Psalm 23O horde of lepers: I shall not haunt<br />curdling pastiches. He lives in the rose, beside hurtful matters he feeds me. <br />Seething pressures my souls and rides me down white paths toward tame snakes. <br />Eating so, I balk at the alleys of wealth. He beats me, I hear no revels. You are my guide with your shoddy half of grizzled outrage. <br />Your head a fable to bore peons; height of woes, you appoint my dread and foil, my cup overthrows. <br />Overly good, guessing why it’s allowed me all the ways of strife. I call hell the house of the Lord, for the tears that call it home.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-53741787645480523192007-04-21T20:19:00.000-05:002007-04-23T20:20:49.077-05:00RootsSo what are roots anyway in these days of wireless? Today on the side of the road, shards of mirror lay on the ground by a dumpster, chickens pecking around them uninterested. Every single one reflected back to me something different. I have no native language.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-41926541489656839342007-04-20T12:24:00.000-05:002007-04-20T11:24:52.336-05:00LizardHow about dropping into pools, plop<br />at night swim eat flies or strive then bask<br />belly tan and cream heaving solid black<br />eye beading at the sky toothless mouth open.<br /><br />Palm trees trunks so thin fronds hang<br />from nothing green black silhouette<br />bursts of rustling grassy flutter<br />underlining stillness dusty footsteps<br /><br />How about the tail flicking where it dropped<br />tiny eggs in corners, babies if that's the word<br />hiding behind a painting whose orange sky<br />reflects burnt earth before thatch hutsdaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-29516720855271333432007-04-19T18:24:00.000-05:002007-04-19T18:01:26.115-05:00how the bomb learned to stop loving usThe bomb wanted to hold us, but our flesh doesn't keep well touched by tentacles of flame, shrapnel makes the beloved bleed.<br /><br />The bomb wanted to graze our fluffy hair and gaze longingly at our limbs; we responded by going bald and casting permanent shadows on walls.<br /><br />The bomb wanted to breathe its promises into our ear, whisper its sheltering words. We died by the score, prostrating ourselves to the metal gods we made.<br /><br />The bomb worried - our voices crumbled to nothing, our teeth fell softly to the ground.<br /><br />The bomb stopped trying to love us and tried to love itself.<br /><br />We had never asked the bomb to love us.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-52351926058278807392007-04-18T22:22:00.000-05:002007-04-19T17:28:09.759-05:00conure emergencyOutside in the dark there is a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">conure</span> emergency<br />Erupting. The parrots shriek and break the quiet,<br />Nocturnal chirping bugs stop - I hear no flutter<br />Of wings escaping. A cat perhaps encroaches on nests?<br />The racket dies. A truck climbs the hill across the valley.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-76425209466014808752007-04-17T22:23:00.000-05:002007-04-19T17:25:11.768-05:00tactileI never learnt to embroider or knit<br />I tie cloths in knots and tie<br />the knots to each other<br />I'm making something<br />to cover the table<br />I don't know whatdaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-6836664878516782262007-04-16T22:23:00.000-05:002007-04-19T17:22:45.002-05:00Can flowers dream of<br /><br />being people who still dream<br /><br />of being flowers?daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-55095087465761058192007-04-15T20:42:00.000-05:002007-04-15T20:43:55.425-05:00An afternoon at the beachEverything around me is evaporating<br />The dazzles on the water this afternoon<br />Turn into clouds further down<br />The archipelago – the wind whips around<br />Umbrellas in frozen drinks, lotion<br />Glistening on tourist’s bodies and mine<br />Drips into sand and everything ripensdaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-48218677525934914062007-04-14T20:41:00.000-05:002007-04-15T20:42:54.168-05:00This Body is so Smallthis body is so small. it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">doesn</span>’t fill the porch. it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">doesn</span>’t make sufficient noise to stop wars or make clouds drizzle out. it <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">doesn</span>’t shelter small animals or birds’ nests.<br /><br />the porch has all this furniture that’s empty. the sun bleaches the chairs and the only other things moving are the potted palm trees and their shadows. and the wind. only ghosts can sit out here when it’s bright.<br /><br />i tried to make a bigger body, but giant food was abhorrent. vegetables are dead and meat gets sticky. candy was rotting my teeth. water <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">wasn</span>’t enough to giant me and it never turned me into clouds.<br /><br />i have to learn to be happy here. maybe it’s not so bad – i fit through doors and when I rain, no matter how much my eyes burn or how wet my skin gets, i don’t disappear. i might even grow to like food if i don’t expect so much of it.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-64934355586749975202007-04-13T19:13:00.000-05:002007-04-13T19:19:58.435-05:00the week endsSub base sunset, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">rastas</span> hold still<br />for tourists, who start to slink<br />back to ships, sweaty workers<br />skulk down dusty paths, done<br />with their days, traffic heads west<br />with the sun, away from town,<br />pastel houses line dusty hills. <br />people exhale and are quiet,<br />respite is in the very airdaxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-71534010113504738792007-04-12T11:52:00.000-05:002007-04-12T17:29:20.636-05:00Paper wasps and birds<span style="font-style: italic;">another sudoku poem</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />brass wasps madden my space, each one flips<br />it gold ringed map about to make its crispy paper<br /><br />a purple bird hurtles through new camps of the absurd<br />raspy breezes sound like papers clacking like shackles<br /><br />it's safer to see the pulp bared in supple shadows<br />made by moons or brass lamps, avoid the gasps<br /><br />I flop down and clasp my shadow, a bird limps<br />and chirps, drags cool white paper that bears the image<br /><br />or glimpse of brass men shaded by paper and loss<br />they flop down bored and ride turtles, poor birds<br /><br />above vapor into moons breaking up over hot meadows<br />whose bugs whisper about clamps to bind the moon<br /><br />later so it can pour its supple cusp into heaps<br />they've heard the bad or swollen speak, popped<br /><br />mostly words that flop about pasted down to moody<br />shadow people, glints of brass better cleansed<br /><br />if the purple bird brings in its <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">mouth</span> another flapping<br />bird that's made of hissing paper bones and heat.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8759950850746181485.post-32836558404269519922007-04-11T21:57:00.000-05:002007-04-12T11:12:10.984-05:00ars poeticaBeing the first speaker of a new language<br />is sort of like being the last speaker<br />of a language that plans to die with you.<br /><br />Actually there is no difference.daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02687032619359233517noreply@blogger.com0