I don’t write a lot of poetry anymore. I used to once upon a time, but my poetic muse has largely left me in the last several years. Every so often words or phrases invade my head, or something happens and bits and pieces work into something resembling a poem. These three, more or less, go together and are presented as I wrote them in the latter part of last year.
I woke in the night, surprised,
To have your name on my lips;
I could taste you on my tongue
And was parched for another sip.
I saw you in my dreams— you were in
My thoughts for the first time in a long while—
You were a judge over a jury of fire
While I was the rake awaiting another trial.
I ignored the smoke and flames, but not
How vexed you were that I was so cruel
As to strut off the stage from my star turn
In what I saw as the role of the fool;
We argued the same question as
To which of us had burned the most,
And remained divided on an answer to
When did we both give up the ghost.
If I dream of you, again, tonight,
I’ll smile as I watch you dance;
I’ll drift on the choir of your voice and
Worship the caress of your hands.
But if my slumber is undisturbed and
No dreams decide to fashion a play,
I’ll still wake quite content to have
Known you in fairer, more summer days.
It’s a mystery—
It’s always November, isn’t it,
The rain just fallen and
The dark refuses to quit.
I’m left to wonder,
Wander, knelt and lost at the
Shadow of you standing naked in
In the light of a neon cross.
You sang in the still of the night while
I was perfectly fine to remain quiet,
But we each enjoyed this thing
Between us— fragile, tenuous, pliant—
That tore down the heavens
With a touch of winter that felt
Like the hand of God
On the soul of a simple sinner.
The past is eternal, the future remains
Unwritten— seasons forever change;
Try as we might to keep the memories,
Their portraits fade and their colors wain.
November is beautiful even as stray winds
Move on stony ground to stake new claims.
Love is permanent until it’s indifferent; the heart
Beats, but its song is not always the same.
Baby’s Got a Boo-Boo
(she hasn’t stabbed him a third time)
She turned the lights low-
The city came alive
outside the window
Souls spread in
wave upon wave
across the canyon
[they held each other so close
their hearts beat in tandem]
She said, “I want to pretend
the nights never end; oh,
do you remember….”
“I remember too well-”
(It’s been so long that
everything about her is new,
and everything is strange,
yet her laugh is the same
So is the way she hides
her face, the way she
tilts her head
Just like when she
found him in the dark,
he can still feel her reach
across the bed)
I’m tired of being caught
between the devil and
the deep blue sea
I think I’ll have a swim tonight…
Seeing you always depresses me-