pixels, drowned-orange white, stab through line’d slantings of the blinds, stars let drip in spark’ling majesties
Month: June 2006
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through thick-lined, light/shadowed wall cut thin,
through thick-lined, white/shadowed wall cut thin, constellations pierce, breaking bold-dark/orange to mimic dome, though room and droppers, fall’n, know more than eye can meet through generalities and gaze.
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longing is best
longing is best described
as true swaying of the heart
in want/in hope/in sight
of a returning rock for/to fill
the space swung in.
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as much as i love you, i
as much as i
love you, i
know not
your view
and,
though i
can/may find
way amongst
the brambles/branches,
i
cannot go beyond
what i know not
yet/
you.
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you may belittle your words
you may
belittle your words
by misinterpreting
what you’ve said,
rearranging/insulting
them by
fooling
yourself
into holding them
at a distance
that is any further than
in
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bee & i
Held still, eyes shift from passage/from word to the lure of soft hum, and, darting, they shift from ‘bove to ‘low our bench, tracking eyes as tag and, thinking I no need to keep focused, pops between the planks/the boards and holds, to wait eyes return to book/to hands and, satisfied, they raise to be seen again, a turning of the game, as, now, I, hidden, hold from look, from shift, to see move of next and, they, displeased, lean in hov’ to me and, lightning-knock into, persuading me, a turn toward they and, in play, happy, they return to game ‘neath bench/from sight/to watch response, to measure moves as made or held.
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so, you’re there
so, you’re there
, i’m here
& there’s too much
between us to
leave it at that–won’t you come & hold
this, a heart, beaten
to be tender/still,
as nothing lasts as long
as laughter between the
veins, & nothing
feels as does the unbothered
unminded
breath/a
breeze,
made &
loved, tobe
-
tis but incremental measures of the everchanging/time
there is a she
for me.
i know not where;
i know not her location/
though her presence,
her laughter/liquid breathings
form on me a chill,
a warmth of breeze/of budding
pores brought lively–
and, though she is not here,
i know she is.
she exists..
or, if not now,
as she is in mind,
she will be, in time,
much more, much more
than finite words/definites
/much more
than thought of as now by me.are you her? this
she whose lesson,
pressure,
rises me
to fluidity of thought
as though image,
burnt through dreams?
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washing the face and taken into account
washing the face and
taken into account
is what diana’s said:
clean, rinse, moisturize.
on-top of that rests
the idea of earth,
barren/dry/sunken
and unavailable to life;
moisten the land, though,
and you have soil/
life/roots to growmore.
-
how destitute, fallen, timbered,
how destitute, fallen, timbered,
shook the trees by wind in water’s company,
but how rich the health/a wealth of
the most natural greenwhen licked, wet, regrown & free