Saturday, January 18, 2014

The Art of Closure

Walk
Don't run when you see the signs:
eyes that never really look at you
a luminous body that does not glow
words that speak of nothing

If you are young it will be hard
to see and read these signs

Age can help define
and justify the leaving

Walk
slow but deliberate;
if you run you will get away
too fast and wont learn the lesson

On the other side is
light and sound and air









Thursday, January 16, 2014

Ice Blue Eyes

a single face among faces
in a crowd on the street
ice blue eyes, coffee colored face
my heart stopped
         an instant
then the blood began to flow,
         in earnest
she knew she had this effect
both on men and on women
but didn’t understand why

I didn’t look away
as almost everyone did
she didn’t blink, searching my face
for some indication, some sign
maybe I had the answer

Friday, January 10, 2014

El Capitan


Arranged idly on his face
two staring orbs of clouded blue

His hand confessed to nothing
while it pawed the ice cubed air

Down below his palsied feet
danced to a happy tune
only he could hear

"turn up the volume El Capitan"
he sang into deepest echoic space

His lift off was successful and now he was free


Monday, January 6, 2014

The Rubber Glove



“You pointing your finger at ME?”
a quizzical look on my face
“You pointing your finger at me?”
in my best imitation of DeNiro
while the doctor, smiling,
snapped on his rubber glove.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Raynaud's Phenomenon




With one small word 
all the goodness had been wrung out of the day

Her secret silver hair now covered in hennas of tobacco brown
and at other times natural brown or natures brown
 When wanting excitement
black or very black

Now hung lank and languid over the computer terminal
 Raynuad's blue fingers scratching at the keyboard
searching Google for the meaning of life

He walks by and coughs
her fingers keep moving
she does not even look up




Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Silver Seagull

The pure silver seagull
wrapped its wings
around my finger
“it’s your totem,” you whispered
     (we were into totems in those days)
as you handed it to me
it turned out to be a going-away present
I never saw you again
and thirty years later
I discovered where you escaped to
wrote you a letter
which you never answered