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Saturday, February 28, 2015

Howl





Howl 

Flesh of my flesh
empty my veins of
blood-names, fuel
my annihilation-fear
through the weight 
of your indifference
casually cut the certain
circle of life and legacy 
I shall howl 
to the moon
Willing tide-
turn as you 
table time 
immobilize 
immortality
and barren 
by design
consign 
me Ghost
grieving 
through
granite
forever
dead 

~






Sunday, February 15, 2015

for love

MALIZ ONG 


for love

there is no science of love
though many have tried to
track scattered pebbles 
from the mountain for a triggering 
 cue –
there is no science of love
how memory lights darkness
seals smallest and most
gaping crack in any soul 
there is some sort of saintly
sheen on love even for those
who hold no truck with such -
grand as the blaze of sunrise
simple as a field of daisies -
love uncontained as it is held
the essence of polarity at play   
No, there is no science of love
to deconstruct would be to
wrestle an angel to autopsy
why?
there is no science of love
just the simple act of magic
mystic glow filling the spaces


Sunday, February 8, 2015

The Clown


In the tumble glass sound
the clown wanders fierce
carefully, oh, so carefully
prey to scorn-fill emptying
his heart -  soft sounds of
laughter a forgotten burst
vanished on the cold wind
they choose -to instill grim
rather than gayety - Scape-
goat he climbs one heap and
another of mad malice he grows
tired. Stumbling, blank, confused
until he passes the sunniest child
hears only the emit of gray groan -
This, this final flat failure of possibility
stamps the seal on his importuning soul
and the clown surrenders. Draws the thick
fleece of hope around his shaking shoulders -  
and stops, for now.
Waiting for the wound to close -
for the tickle of gentler times and
the rolling rollicked rumbled return
of joy


Friday, February 6, 2015

Disappointment




Disappointment
There it was cherry
mahagony gleaming
under the store dust
She could see it opened
to full length –bulging
three board leaves full
with food and china
They carried it home
and shined it up and
for a time it was five
Three children and the
two of them at the table
Until one by one they
grew inspired supported
wings and flew and she
foolishly smiled –during
“Nesting time” – waiting
patiently through their
tears and cheers, their
would-be forever loves
and careers spun like
cotton candy – waiting
for their inevitable return
She could see the full table
Yards of linen – endless
china passed laughingly
from hand to hand –
She could wait
And did –
The table sitting with a
single leaf opening wide
in the center of the long
room – holidays fell one
into the other fragrant
dishes served for most
often three – and then
Finally, it began – they
Married and procreated
She ran to airports and
down hallways to meet
the small newcomers
For they were far away
Yet, still back at table she
knew they would return
But, the wind under wings
carried them far – Still she
cooked for twenty though
there were only two or three
or one year or two four – and
in a flash of tumbled time
it was thirty years before
it struck her – hard – obvious
they never would return –
Some fairytales are for children
others whispered to and by adults
The difference lies
in the happy ending
and a table set for two

Sunday, February 1, 2015

Patron Saint of Sisters - Rescue

Sabine Sauermaul


Patron Saint of Sisters - Rescue

She did not know of her
boundless belief in saints
until that mourning morning
day when spread out at wrong
angles her little brother lay -
fallen -"pushed" they would certainly
say and she would spend each coming
day of her unlived life as guest of the host
of prisons - repenting in repetitious measure
her endless yards of negligence - time inexorably
ticking - as all others ran their race of freedom-there
she sat with held breath and stared, and suddenly he,
little devil sat up and grinned -"scared you there Sister?"
and she in a cloud of humility thanked the Patron Saints
of Sisters for surely he had for that instant he had been truly
dead and so she could only hug him in relief for glorious life - now,
resist her urge to throttle that smile from his smirky, sadistic, lips

Sunday, January 11, 2015

"Je Who?" This Time Paris




"Je Who?"  - This Time Paris

She skipped past the building
stepped over a sign "Je Suis
Charlie" - In the clubs she
heard about this "guy" Charlie
She had not packed her soul
on this vacation from thought,
She was not about to capitulate
to a single instant of sad or vaguest
ennui – No, she was no one but 
herself -for herself, flipping hair
swishing her hips, shaking off a
slivered-sense of chill in the
predawn light as she walked
streets as she had imagined un-
encumbered - She had come
after all to Paris – for fun 
not to condemn, generate
or navigate even the slimmest
channel of what was "politics"- 
after all -she shrugs, smiles
in stumbling circles - Turns -
with arms akimbo and sings -
above distant crying voices
“Render unto me only pleasure”-
Slurring-sloppily-her silly
scurrilous self talk - sacrilege
in the site of light from Eiffel
Tower to Arc de Triomphe -
She checks her manicure
refuses to bear witness -
ignores the flecks of blood
on yes her liable hands
that brush glittered glass
and gore as specks of lint
Massages lotion into a tiny
raw spot flaring for an instant
until it is vanished-banished
She is here - after all for fun
in skinny jeans and ballet
flats - a reinvented imitation
Audrey walking celuloid streets
She will be care-free
No price is too great.
Nothing here is her problem
Though she does need to
spray a bit of cologne under her
nose to block the annoying odd
smell of inky blood
punctuating an end 
she will not cede
Her dancing denial.
determined to twirl
For she is in Paris after all -
City of Light -
and it will shine -
even through
their tears



*
when a poem requires an end-note it has failed
This "vacationer" was intended as a metaphor for mindless self-absorption which is truly horrific.
I have edited this since first writing this morning.




Sunday, January 4, 2015

The Shelter of Shine




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The Shelter of Shine 
Happy New Year 

I resolve standing in the center of the Shelter
Of Shine that there shall be a revolution in this
new day. I see in the waves of wheat and ripples
of sea, in the clouds skittering above and in the
earth beneath my feet the review of all that has
gone before and turn my face dedicated to the
light – recite that recent ways are not the way -
that despair, desolation and tears falling as
thrumming drumming dismal downpours are not
the design. With a lightening heart I cast off 
each moldered strip of gravitus 
each flickered beheaded bloodied individual
each scar and scourge upon Mother Earth in all her forms 
strip these horrors one by one and see beyond
and know that even the flattest grimmest
gray shall never ultimately win –
 for there is
no contest nor competition nor conflict 
There is only what is – and what is holds and heals, 
repairs the slightest fray in the fabric of the grand
shimmering tapestry. 
for all is meant to renew 
Here on this new morn in a fresh born year
it is revealed that all that beckons the darkness
is but a  fairytale – a whirl of whispery words
I resolve standing in the regifted 
Shelter of Shine that there is a revolution of
positivity and hope soaring beyond the curtained sky

 In this New day I shall fear no more the intemperate pull 
of purloined panic – stolen from my childish terrored fears – 
for there in the waves of wheat and the ripples of
sea in the clouds skittering above, and in the very
earth beneath my feet – in the darkest unstarred
night and beneath the skudding skies of cast-over
day there is always–
bright as an infant's newly gleeful gummy grin- 
trickling under closed doors and through cracks 
in darkened corridors of place and mind 
there is 
always light. 
Safe, in the radiance that pours about us all and gathers its beams 
into a smile of benevolent certitude –
I here and now with a strong arm and calming heart
throw fear personal, and collective, into the vanishing wind 
and stand
bearing witness 
filled with hope and possibility, kindness and awe of
All connected into One –
Centered in the glimmer and sparkle
in the crystal clear air of the future
of this bright new day beginning 

I Breathe 
Again 




Happy Healthy New Year filled with Peace, Love and Light