One Fulani
Woman stands
with only her tongue
with strange hands
and a choked heart full of palm poems
gathering shamans
scurrying a foot
to witness one Fulani woman
her backless dress
a long neck, chick pea chest
peeping two points thru engaged fabric
agile flow below extended lure
a chasm between
bayonet sapphire's like dangling participle
the rhapsodist a slight before the I
offering a review of her hieroglyphics
warming air around the warrior insitu

Maybe it's bronchitis or asthma
or my secret life as a witch
crushed beneath the weight
of stone.

I cross street after street littered with urban decay,
blue bags shredded in Sycamore trees
distressing emerging leaves.
But oh, the green, how it invades my senses!

Drip...drip...drip...
From the tip of the knife, blood drips
As it hangs loose from my fingertips
...
I will not let go...I will not hold on
I will not be here...I can't be there...
Grey is my favorite color.

Metal to flesh...look into my eyes
I will not...I cannot slash your throat
Or drive this...deep...deep
into...flesh...fresh, human...man...
I love to drive things into things...

Keeping an attachment,
To a fragile thing,
Watching it roam the sunset,
And dance out over the sea,
By and by, the beat of a soul,
That feels more than words can say,
Pondering explanations,
From which one can never walk away,
It is a hope,
To keep faith in the soul,
Empathy amongst the shallowness,
Light surrounding the whole,
God gave us the ability to see,
Beautiful moments that pass our way,
An attachment between one another,
To a most fragile and confusing thing,

INDIFFERENCE

You are the stillness
of a winter night.
the cold fire
of barren skies
the sun
that dies
in a morning mist.

You are all this.
You are Indifference

Indifferenz

Du bist die Stille
einer Winternacht.
das kalte Feuer
einer kargen Lüfte
die Sonne
der stirbt
in einem Morgendunst.

Sie sind das alles.
Sie sind Indifferenz

My breath is poor,
My poetry stale,

I heard my ship mates:
"Sink or bail!"

I'll take a long rest
From my versed travails,

And hope to lie fallow
While all else avails.

If I don't recover,
Don't lose hope and wail,

So long as I breathe,
I shall yet prevail.

Gonna drive me a train
Gonna leap from a plane
Gonna climb me a mountain or two
Gonna dive for some wrecks
Gonna have awesome sex
Gonna go for a break in Peru
Gonna cruise on the Nile
Gonna eat crocodile
Gonna go down the rapids by raft
Gonna fly a balloon
Gonna go to the moon
Gonna stop being so flamin’ daft

Pieces of Pisces

Wiser now..
I watch the surface
while
all the melted laughter
fades
from your voice
anxiety
fills the muted shadows
draws
the chilling deep
from
the light
of
your love
grown sleepy and heavy
in the twilight of your interest

Let me see.
If I sit down in front of my laptop,
with my fingers on the keyboard,
will I begin to write with the urgency
of my lips?
Will they speak of my love
for you in the braille of my fingertips,
outlining the image of you forever
transmigrated in my heart?
Will I go a thousand kisses deep
with Cohen and feed you orange blossoms
of our redemption?

My love, do you remember the shards we put together,
one by one, lacerating our tongues? The
exquisite torture of becoming lovers, again.

Oh I heard the cuckoo,
did you hear the cuckoo,
just now,
listen,
the silence stuns

and then far out
in the long low valley
again and
again...
cuckoo, cuckoo,
how we love that sound,

and yet she is searching
for some poor little reed warbler,
to lay her eggs beside hers,

even then,
there,
did you hear it again...
cuckoo, cuckoo
magical

as the wind stretches
and compacts the sound
seived through the spring trees
with their rustling leaves