sunset-colored dreams

she was as water endlessly surrounding
all that he’d ever thought to entertain;
as one who stretches ever for enlightening
and self-absorbing, always, just the same –

the light came onto, into her in gladness,
the dawn became the dwelling place of kings:
and every bit of money went as quickly
as they could turn it into newish things –

of happenings, they knew but very little;
they cared for nothing of the world’s bright schemes —
for they were all that was, a sort of ocean
of lunacy, and sunset-colored dreams

Summer Passion – I

We dreamed the summer into life,
And breathed the same life into love;
The tropics were our latitude,
A latitude we took all of –

We sampled of the dreamer’s herb,
And saw the dark with widened eyes:
A living summer, made of light,
And psychedelic
Butterflies

Attics of Memory

Exploring a distant past.

The new brings worlds previously unimagined
Which we can now experience

The old brings worlds unexperienced
Which we can now only imagine

I started old, from earliest memories
Spent visiting oldish houses with endless staircases
Somewhere in upstate New York

Houses with attics
And old books
By people with names like
Ethel M. Dell

And the sun itself
Seemed to enjoy landing on objects
More congenial to it’s age

In old wooden dwellings of aunts and uncles

Exploring a distant past

Whose very exploration

Grows every day more distant

Aware

Half-frozen mud, cold bracing air
A wind that makes my neck aware
That leaves torn from the tree will die
These poor gray strays who tumble by

And like the ghostly light I seek
The morn recedes behind the line
Only of chance to risk a peek
At drifting lives
Like yours

And mine


 

(“Aware” – 11-19-2014)

much the green i broken lay…

much the green i broken lay,
far beyond displeasure –
countertops and cherry-limes,
towers full of treasure —

much the season comes around,
songs and gales of laughter –
much the green i broken lay,
cleaning up
the after

someone who loved you once

the traveled truth in back-to-fronts
like some someone who loved you once
is carved in clay and silica
a limestone twist basilica

your memories, a passing phase
of donut holes, and marble glaze,
and fissures near a mountain cleft,
someone who loved you once
then left