Sunday, October 15, 2017

Beyond the dearth

What possible pretense for the shock, jump- thump of heart hit – what possible pretense for the teeming, reaming, hulk of bulk, looming, zooming a re-route of sun sunk to deep shadow as you stand – Golemic-humanoid hypodermic huge in hand, my would-be-drip-drug of despair–destroying all that was – demolishing all that could come to be - casting a challenge to trust the simple certainty of a single next breath. What possible pretense for it all?
And so, in spite of all – I shut my eyes to your new-normal present, reach behind to the joy of the past, and inhale in great gulps of sweet air - the promised future-to-come. Beyond the dearth. 

Sunday, October 8, 2017



the storm has ravaged the emerald fringe 
that bracketed the road - now brown bare -
ripped red road seeks the sparkled harbor -
here, there, rise small  road- kill -lumps in 
mud frieze frozen in heat - this Pompeiian 
savage struggle - I stare in the after storm 
swirl -in the emptied eye of your  maliced
mystery - I struggle to sigh from the mud- 
once-manna-frangipani-paradise lush..lost 
the storm has ravished the emerald fringe 
that bracketed the road -my charge now to
power through and find the turquoise harbor 
still shining as North Star - in your soul as on
this sparkling surreal island holder of memory 
past - beauty that brought us to our knees - 
portent of all possibility for the future to come
then and only then in gratitude and hope can 
lift from the mud and live - 
until then I am but another 
bump of road kill flattened 
under it 
by it