Some Older Poems

Constance, I am working on a poem right now that is soo luscious and really just sorta pouring outta me…I am not trying to stopper the flow or even shape it right now.  It is just the gushing and bubbling up of deep things, layered in verigation and heavy with inference.

It will be in the future sometime when I am in the right space to begin sculpting, shaping, nudging things here and there…

So here are some poems from the past, in the meantime.

This poem is about a ton of things, and finds particular application to those who cast away on a foolish journey of thought and belief, or lack thereof…those who follow the siren calls of narcissism and nihilism so rampant in our world.

The Golden End
The irony (kind irony:  is that “kirony?”)…the Kind Irony of this poem is that the Golden End is just the beginning…

Sail With Me?
What are your boats?  “Empty yet not abandoned”?

Mama’s Clothes
The very cry of my heart, my soul, my all.

So…I am learning to dance on waves, walk on water.  I have discovered my wings, and they are large…

Will you join me?  The surface is as solid as what you look at…tumblr_nplgkyR1TG1t7chr3o1_1280

ghosts of christmases past

just an ember
in the ashes
in the hearth
in the midst
of a fireplace

cooling off
stones grown cold
in the midst
of a big
empty room

full of sheeted
furniture still
petrified ghosts
frozen in the chill
of indifferent interest

and neglect so still
in the midst
of a house
full of voices
merely echoes

of those voices
long ago
when the ghosts
were thawed and human
and limber in

the room so warm
the fire bright
the stones so hot
and embers glowing
and their skin shining

and their bones throbbing
like maps of knowing
to the way that heaven
felt back then
and where they’d gone

and where they’d been.