Category Archives: self confidence

The last ones

Where the omegas light
or the zebras graze
coming to a sundown at the end
of a day, with the hues just finishing
at the edge of the page.
Come what may.

Trek down to bottom
of the waterfall,
the pool that collects and swirls
and spalls. Shapes majestic rock
to a minor crawl.
You’ve seen it all.

Walk away from
blood and tears you’ve shed,
The memory maybe still fresh,
and living in your head. Not
worth the pain or the dread.
That’s what they said.

The last ones take
a moment to decide,
to conquer and reign in the now,
the meantime. It’s true what they implied,
yet often untried.

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non-sequitur moment

I don’t speak Gaelic,
and I’ve never been to Venice, either,
she said -between bites of her sandwich-
not looking at anyone in particular.

And I thought:

It must take a long time to get there by rowboat.
The ocean is only half-filled with water,
though there is plenty of time,
plenty of it.
plenty…

It is only 8 miles across the straits of Gibraltar
where the big rock is.
(Well, there is probably more than one),
and they keep getting reshaped and worn by water.

Maybe water can reshape me
or move me out to the sea.

Stones don’t move themselves;
they just get reshaped by water.
Running water.
Falling down.
Breaking it apart.
Lots of water falling down and crashing into crags and crevices.

That’s why rocks crash into the sea.

The ocean is half-full of rocks, I said.

And she nodded with fluid regality
-between bites of her sandwich-
like a queen or princess.

****
Originally published in Soundzine | February, 2011

present perfect

I do not wish to know
tomorrow’s faint and slow
ascent, nor do I care to see
if yesterday was lithe with glee –
Wasn’t last year so obsessed
and burdensome?
We can attest.
And back ten years, if sighted, could
we not have worried where we stood?

To keeping in the ‘now on scene’,
I hope that all my words are keen
and opening new each day
-as morning glories say –

that past affronts have gone to sour
and I embrace a blooming flower
that opens with the sun.

And here I have begun.

answer

there is no answer
only trees with spindled branches
that vanish in the beauty of the green

and trails that wander off
behind the distant hillsides, pastoral scenes.

no remedy – with wind between
the spruce’s fingerlings
since moved along to coastal shores and things.

no antiphon in plummeting
in ocean depths – it’s just serene
and emptied of all guff
and echo that there’s ever been.

no pleas as silent offerings proceed
to culminating crests, and heights convened.

and this, the peace of things
that is to be –
the answers all in all, are unforeseen.

where

This place I recall,
where I stacked chairs
against the wall, placed in rows
like a caravan,
readied as a train to resign.

Something empty,
forgotten in a room
with silver clouds and wooden tomes
describing Vesuvius and its ashes
falling.

That which buries me
only spalls, and I – willing for lightning
to strike –
don’t forget that
beneath the cumulonimbus,
one part rains,
another part shades.

idyll

between the nothing-dom
and something-ness
the lumens lean,
twisting axes-
a helix
in ideal darkness.

visionary – for both
a twinkle of wonder and awareness
of position-
modest in winds and poses
that once in a blue moon
align with man’s sense of mystery
on a coiling staircase.

shameless, peel back
in brazen arcs your wings-
dormant no more.

eased and alarmed
fire and calm
dark matters-
lights palm
her secrets.

expression

glitter gold,
and watch reflections
patter on,
as specks surround
and attach beyond.

scintillate,
in flashing glows
the ions of your
aureate tongues.

move,
and flicker
until your crests
bestow a shade of flare-

and spread this frenzied
throe upon the night’s
affair.