It’s always the same
when I write, always
litanies,
lists,
comma after comma,
the occasional
semicolon;
there’s even a period now and then.
Never a swan.
Time, time, time
Reply
Tag Archives: meaning
Music
We spend our lives
trying to mute the noise
unaware that it’s
the very music of the cosmos
we’re so desperate to hear
The hammer of your eyes
The hammer of your eyes
Shapes everything you see
Until reality collapses
From the weight of persistence
The thingness of things is such
That it mutates to meet expectation,
Owes allegiance to the naming ritual
Rolls from the tongue with lilting guile
And slips from the grasp as easily
As money or grace
These things carry meaning:
Sky, sea, mountain and plain
Whose rivers tie the bounds
Of Earth together
These things rip meaning from the heart:
Ash, coal, and smoke,
Zippered into a theory of sky
Beyond the bezelled horizon.
We ignore destiny,
Hoping to write our own stories,
Like Oedipus, like God,
Unaware that fate has no will
But is bound by the sacred law
Of irony.
Jesus shrinks from his new notoriety
He declines to be interviewed.
A glimpse, only,
a side-long breath, let out
too late, swallowed in haste,
not to appear too gullible,
too eager.
He craves the immediate,
catches the last hint of eternity
blazing past, unholy, oblivious,
his heart as blank
as his head.
Above the dingo wind,
a scaffold of melodies,
of harmonious disconsequence.
And here I am, left only with
questions, suggestions, repetitions,
cast a-breeze with no concealment.
The oceans within, the foaming main,
who can sail these dark seas?
Dustup
We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry. ~ W. B. Yeats
This mirror is no help at all,
such a sludge of regret.
I used to think I was either divine
or pointless, cringed at the
occasional glimpse of ordinary,
that hint of sameness
lurking in the corner of my reflection.
This, God’s apple, was punishment enough
for the transgression of being.
exiles child 