In minutes it arrived
singing in low voices and
swinging from street lights.

It danced under branches
and wallowed in the breeze.
It hid under carpet and
scrabbled out of leaves.

It slipped over and laughed like
a hundred wobbling cranes.
Then pulled me closer while
whispering your soft name.

It was a freedom etched in
sadness with a solemn
blackened face.

DESERT WINDS

You came to me
on a desert wind
hiding treachery
behind perfumed smiles
and opiate lies.
The evil that you bring
is the death
of a serpent's sting
and all that flowers in me
dies

wore the colors of illusion
wove through the eye of a hurricane
you rode

iridescent green and blues
tapestries gathered
all by you

and the frost grew
and grew
the lake breath blew
against the star eye
of the evening traffic light
beneath the window
were you put out your
candles
praying for the signs

eventuality would arrive
and right thing up

Between stations, snow.
Bryson said one percent of the dancing static
is left-over from the big bang.
That's useful information,
maybe aliens or gods are trying to make
contact
but we're too busy watching
the other three hundred stations,
filling our heads with escapism
while life is lost on the living ninety-nine
per cent and the one percent takes it all.

However, even stars die and leave black
holes where nothing escapes, not even
light.

Dawning

Your shadow draws shorter devouring itself
as sweet morning light wanes into noon,
that time of day when all seeming
loses it's resplendent illusions
and the fairy magic of twilight
is swept under the vast carpet of day.
Echoes of your fading smiles
and midnight eyes burning into memory
are lost in the horizon of introspection.

If they ask about me, tell them these
That I have taken to the seas upon the east
To journey west into the blank beyond
Where Hades kind go on their voyage

What is there to find?
Coldness and void
Weary feet upon meaningless walks
Ears but foes to the windless talks
Eyes entranced in a battle against the veils

HOME MOVIES

Home movies black and white
faded celluloid 1940s
16 millimeter dry and brittle
flickering through time
a blinding light
and we splice a life
back together
again...
empty reflections
of yesterdays
flickering through time

the light of the full moon shines
as white diamond hind tall trees
hanging high above dark skies
spraying streamed light through my sliding glass door

you fall into my day
happier then happy

brushing my teeth
was a bore
but now its worse with
you
now a chore

the world crumbles
and groans and
you whisper now
like a flicker of light
like rain upon my
wrists

like sweat crawling
to one eye and stinging

boreal forests cant
hold you
nor the wolves ignore
you

You slip then slide
like a draft upon my
spine

you were never so
sublime

and I know when
the madness will
take me

Pronounced with an F

Brylcreem and brittle bone
sticky out ears, on the car phone,
That which is thought of
in time spent alone.
Petrified minutes of waiting,
ashen faces, like stone.

Looking for comfort,
receive a collective groan.
Hearing the order to face
the unknown.

Giving your all till
your cover’s blown,
finally you find all
minutes are gone.

Cleaning your life in puddled
water, sometimes happily,
just the perfect time
to atone.