SHADOWS

 

As paralyzed,

I beseech to reach to you

As I had to shade my eyes

I been open and shut to you

(She’s out & out shut out to me)

.

.As soon as I realized

I became a flame to you

As I had manhandled a candle

Our flicker likes to go to shadows

(we’re far & away too far & away)

 

 

  

 

 

It’s A Heart Day (take a token)

Of  me

They’ve looked & lived love, y’see,

To me, Today, maybe

I haven’t the heart

For Hearts Day

I don’t maybe

Heart Hearts dDay

Deemed a day to

Dare to   declare

Chambres de la coeur

Hell, I tell them

“I love you”  nightly

& rightly so I go,

I up and go

Handstamp my name

at the bottom of some

Damp & dreary card rhyme

Not my own this time

And everyone knows 

Even one rose

And dark chocolates

Give rise to beauty

So I give duty

To give tokens to take

Of what’s already spoken

What’s already here a joke to take.

 

 

MISS

When I don’t hear from her

When we don’t talk

Instead of what might

just happen in late night

screwball comedies,

A black & white

Cakewalk

Where he keeps

Just  missing her,

& unknown to her,  her one & only is  so near,

& you watch  & wait for them to wise up,

For when their timing improves.

When I don’t hear from her

When we don’t talk

Instead of just sitting tight,

&  trusting the plot twists,

&  trusting our protagonists,

&  holding still for all that insignificant subterfuge

Until it all plays out that

They can finally take cuts in the

Everything’s-Fine   waiting line/

Instead of that

He keeps just missing her.

.

.

.

.

Yesterday at the yoga class

I was asked to  exhale out

All the  inside I saw as unsettled.

And all this matter   turned to air.

Then, to  take in a new air.  A More awake.  A More aware

Just  

Miss

 

Leonard Cohen Thrills

Wilde Love

“Never love anybody who treats you like you’re ordinary.”

-Oscar Wilde

“No, You Phoria!”

 

“Euphoria.”

&  for her, right back

“No, You phoria!”

Our joy rightly stacked

Pallets!   Muy high!

We’d ballet,  &  Bali Hi

We’d dip, over deep,  & sleep some

We’d awaken  our way, um,

We’d make our way, best we can

To our best Russian waitress and

Have our own hashbrowns   eggside

She’ll pour our coffee for our ride

homes

The Unpalpable Ash

“..If I touch/ Near the fire/ The unpalpable ash..”

-Pablo Neruda  (7/12/04-9/23/73)  from  “If You Forget Me”

.

.

.

 

 

 

 

I wonder when one day

We’ll pocket our passions

They’ll fasten  in look-see  neck  lockets

Soon it’ll seem right

To wear…She’ll share hers in sunlight

Fashion  will see to it  we

Unabashedly

Undress off our soft  underthings

And  show  softer

Bold  and  tender

Expressings

loft

It might seem

All this wretched week

I’m nights dreaming,

‘Till their drench ed sheets

Drape their flushed & fleshy souls

In the same town

Wet, & yet

Won’t drown

In deep waters

Just out the door, around.

.

They’ll soon drift,

‘Till noon, a different drift.

At long last They’re lift ed

A strong  love’s loft,

Soft, &

Gifted.

COUP DREAM

in a dance we did

yr thinner, inner landscape was inscribed, was

vapid.  insi Pitity.

me, I was a hundred mindfields away,

defragging yr administration, declassifying yr files,

& imitating yr walk.

stepping up some

PHONE LINES

It can make me feel I’m flying

This high eagle’s full-wing sirrus arcing

It’s just after our congress convenes our session

I still stand up still not talking.

You can make me feel I can’t fly

You just want us, still, on a sure line

Too distant  to walk.