Poems Without Titles
Tag Archives: writing
Art
Why should I want to contain you
Place your beauty within this cage in this frame
For is not arresting all at the essence of Art
Fragrance of imperfect freedom
An unleashing
Flight from confinement
Escape from ordinary
Exploration of sensescapes no corporeal beings roam
Wings
Logic and deduction and evidence and explanation
Too loaded to follow
A bridge deconstructed an outline made of squint
Lace and velvet satin and flowers rivulets of sky in an ocean of dream
Scenes of an unscene
Can I slip into my/your/our centre in secret moments
Touch your raw naked pulse
Feel
What it is to know truth at the intersection
Where imperfect breath and depth of life exchange promises
Without uttering a sound
But a shift
Caught drifting soft past
A presence
Something there
Poem
Poem God
Poem Goddess
Poem Spirit
Poem Breath
Rising with wind
Riding upon waves enroute to sky
I sat upon the earth and built this thing for you.
Wall Messengers
No conversations
Villagers have all gone home
Walls whisper hello
I Tried but Could Not Yet
I tried but I cannot yet do what must be done
Write a simple sonnet the friendly man says
Begin right after I read you this one
Maybe I haven’t yet worked hard enough
He seems so sure I’ll find the flow
Write about flowers or write about the blues
Write fourteen lines about buying new red shoes
Write a simple sonnet the friendly man says
Soon as you do you’ll be slipping into some silver sonic address
Reciting Dante while riding a horse called Volta
Through some echoing ancient forest
Next to Prosodic Avenue
I’ll be waiting for you.
Love Is Black And White And Beaches
Those are not my footprints in the sand
I stroll behind
I watch others’ footprints flow
Those are not my friends in the photograph
I stroll behind
I hope they would not mind
This is not my year for even numbers
I step aside
I am Aquarius and partly blind
This is not yet my year of death
I’m standing still
I am older now but destined perpetual Valentine
Stones in Pockets Traces in Sand
We walk for days across Sahara
This is the river you say
A million stones
Zazzle shape size spectrum
We wade without fear of drowning
Fossils distend my pockets
Their songs collide as I stride
A crack in thrum of silence
Homage to these rhythmic sands
I balance monument with Tamarisk shade
To remember
The weight
Stones
My palm warmed the stone
I plucked from the many
As we trod long across unfamiliar awaiting discovery
Before the steep
Before the onset of fear
Before staccato breaths bred control
I paused at a rubble pile
Sacred someone says
Safe passage to those who leave an offering
Balanced here in morning’s light
Horses
From above I saw them
Trio of pale mountain travellers
Sipping slipstream cooling parched tongues
Coats reflective of filtered autumn sun
Unhurried untamed unworried
Aware yet unmoved by human presence
I stood watching still as a stone
And imagined us as one untethered beast
Oh fleet footed wild ones
Were I able I’d run with you
After winds at our backs
Manes like wings flashing as we gallop high
To perilous wanderings of these unpredictable shadowy mountains
Empty Pages
Fill up all the empty pages
can’t seem to say what I want to say
all those phrases empty spaces
between me and a better way
I draw close to pen and paper so word wary
no resonance no rhythm no meaning necessary
I can’t dance
I can’t sing
I can’t wrestle this night train down
I can’t keep this beat
up time in my mind
Listen to the distant howling
is that a watcher in the wood?
Raise a wave for the black bird flying high
It is impossible to reach there
but I’m still going to try
And bird rides straight on through blood red sky
