what loneliness on this japanese night
waiting for the haiku moon
subtle humming and breathing
taut humid air a million guitars
singing the music beyond the range of our telescopes
we have combed her in science:
naming the ocean organs
sampling symbiotic lice
preserving her fingerprints with plasters
geologic birthday cards
I have looked for her number
in a thousand phone books
in a thousand languages
and found a thousand years
of possibilities
on this lonely japanese night
waiting for the haiku moon
I press 0 for the operator
"This is a collect call."
"Name?"
"I have no name."
and the phone begins to ring...
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Suicide Candle
Hands weathered silhouetted haiku gently fold the bread
A poet ambushed in the wall
"The sky found a horizon, the sun found a voice,
her soul found my poetry and I found my love,"
A poet whittled in the wall
The autumn became cool where dragonflies slept
And silence found a home where loneliness and I met
The poet stood as no-smiles where the four corners wept
Her hip like a hill and the air as a blanket -
Mother and daughter found the stars to be dreams
And the poet camouflaged with words
Covered the earth in unceasing night
Where all may tempt their secrets to life
Melting from the wall
Dripping toward a naked moist center
The cries became roars under gasoline rain
And all of it burned burned as poet's pain
A poet gripped the wall
Where all of it burned
As a candle hell-bent on suicide.
A poet ambushed in the wall
"The sky found a horizon, the sun found a voice,
her soul found my poetry and I found my love,"
A poet whittled in the wall
The autumn became cool where dragonflies slept
And silence found a home where loneliness and I met
The poet stood as no-smiles where the four corners wept
Her hip like a hill and the air as a blanket -
Mother and daughter found the stars to be dreams
And the poet camouflaged with words
Covered the earth in unceasing night
Where all may tempt their secrets to life
Melting from the wall
Dripping toward a naked moist center
The cries became roars under gasoline rain
And all of it burned burned as poet's pain
A poet gripped the wall
Where all of it burned
As a candle hell-bent on suicide.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
How Many Times
How many times I have died
Only to reawake in your arms
And how many times those arms
Suffocated me
How clumsy we were
To fall face first into love
And how proudly we bear our bruises.
Only to reawake in your arms
And how many times those arms
Suffocated me
How clumsy we were
To fall face first into love
And how proudly we bear our bruises.
A Girl's Heart in Japanese
bird, like
broken line like
wing, like
calligraphy.
___________
please do not be ashamed
my sign read Vacancy
when all rooms were filled
broken line like
wing, like
calligraphy.
___________
please do not be ashamed
my sign read Vacancy
when all rooms were filled
Fisherman
to the fisherman
he came unravelling the night of midnight thread
into a darker pile thick like shadow
upon their rocks
casting lines into
reflected neon moonish vibrations
their consciences biting, jumping
aware of this man who
comes with stick and bottle and a glowing
orange diamond in the corner of his mouth
he tosses the stick
throws the bottle back and says
"You have finally come to extinguish my cigarette."
the fishermen
like black irregular lines or breaks
in the typing of the night
watch as he zips
himself away.
he came unravelling the night of midnight thread
into a darker pile thick like shadow
upon their rocks
casting lines into
reflected neon moonish vibrations
their consciences biting, jumping
aware of this man who
comes with stick and bottle and a glowing
orange diamond in the corner of his mouth
he tosses the stick
throws the bottle back and says
"You have finally come to extinguish my cigarette."
the fishermen
like black irregular lines or breaks
in the typing of the night
watch as he zips
himself away.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
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