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Archive for May, 2015

Another Way to Play

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on May 20, 2015| 3 Comments »

so much rain
all the rooks, bishops, pawns and kings
slip off their squares
into vast mud puddles, laughing
till even the hands that move them jump in

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Two Barbs

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , on May 19, 2015| 2 Comments »

a whole field of peonies
and all I can smell
one dead mouse

*

taking the hook
out of my lip, releasing it
back to you

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Planting Radishes with my Son

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on May 18, 2015| 2 Comments »

not for their taste
but because they sprout first
we plant the radish seeds—

meanwhile I say to the clock,
slower, please, just a little bit slower

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How Could I Have Just Now Noticed?

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on May 17, 2015| 3 Comments »

no wonder my feet
never reach the brakes—
all this time
trying to drive
from the passenger side

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My Shoulders, My Lungs, My Sense of Safety

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on May 17, 2015| 2 Comments »

In the dream, it was a man.
He pretended it was an embrace,
squeezing me as he did.

Getting dressed this morning,
still feeling the places he crushed

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Get the Weather Right

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on May 17, 2015| 2 Comments »

They are still tight,
the buds on the chives.
They are wise not to open.
After a brief spring
it is winter again.
Days of white, nights of white,
thick snow and heavy sky.

Last week, when the birds
were singing, I opened.
I didn’t think of it then
as a vulnerable thing to do.
It seemed so dependable,
the sunshine of you.

I should have taken a hint
from the iris still folded
deep in their green envelopes.
Oh damn this lilac heart,
how it rushes to bloom.
The forecast is for winter all spring.

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When I Get Very Quiet, I Can See How It Goes

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on May 14, 2015| 2 Comments »

Here, I say, I am here for you,
and then I run the other way.
My legs are two trees. They never
leave. Everywhere I go, I am rooted.
My legs are two rivers. They escape
in every moment. I am always
where I’ve never been. There is only
yes, and still I say no. The truth is
I do not want to be known. The truth
is you know me already.
I open my mouth to speak and your
voice pours out. It is my voice
that lives on your lips.
What is all this interest in yours
and mine? Sometimes I believe
these invisible lines. And sometimes,
sometimes I am here, I say.
And then I run the other way.

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Inside Job

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on May 13, 2015| 2 Comments »

Sometimes I notice her,
that woman who shakes her head
no, no, no and stomps her foot
for emphasis, I notice her
practically clawing her way
up my throat, her eyes wild
with conviction, where does
she hide as I smile
a smile so real I believe it myself
as my head begins to nod.

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Poem Not Really About Leaves

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on May 12, 2015| 7 Comments »

Of course I forgot them, the impatiens
that I had left out on the deck. I forgot
them on the coldest night of the spring.
Sure they looked okay in the morning,
but by afternoon, they were darkened
and sullen and droopy things, dead.
How many times have I neglected
the ones that I love? How many
nights have I left them in the cold,
not for lack of love, but out of simple
absentmindedness? It is not that I didn’t
expect the cold, but I was distracted
with my own small sufferings.
Sometimes I’m sorry is not enough.
That is when I promise myself
to do better, to be more aware,
more generous, less blinded
to what’s happening all around me
in the world. But soon enough,
there’s this wound and this deadline,
this loss and this wish, and I just
don’t notice how cold it is,
the thermometer dropping,
the quiet leaves doing what leaves do.

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And So It Goes

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on May 11, 2015| 1 Comment »

Thirty thousand years before the Stone Age,
someone made a bracelet of chlorite.
In the sun, the same sun that we know,
the bracelet glittered and reflected the rays.
In the night, just as dark and steep
as our night, the bracelet cast a deep shade
of green. Green, even then, was the color
of growth and new life. And the bracelet,
say the scientists, would have been worn
as protection from evil spirits. Not much has changed,
really, though the Denisovan people are long,
long gone from the caves in Siberia, gone
from the planet forever. But I think of how they,
like the homo sapiens, were moved
to make beauty. How they, too, perhaps stood
outside on a clear spring night
and felt the wind, the bright slap of the stars,
the possibility that art might save us.

http://www.sott.net/article/296220-40000-year-old-bracelet-made-by-extinct-human-species-found

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