You Who I Will Never Hold


I may love your forever
you, who I will never hold
a relationship based on intimacy
of feelings, of thoughts
always yearning
always disappointed
never satisfied
never full
the desire to die
or to be fulfilled
wishing for the hunger to cease
or be satisfied
the flame to be extinguished
before it destroys
how do I live with this desire
this hunger
this flame
we met at the wrong time in this life
too late
but even so
I may love you forever
you, who I will never hold

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Poem: be aware


Short excerpt from the new book-length erasure poem, BAD THINGS HAPPEN.


31m2vqk1gvlthe evil
in this world

troubled
human history

call for help

LISTEN

in confidence ask
begin to understand
discern wisdom

LISTEN

open your eyes

BAD THINGS HAPPEN

be aware

BAD THINGS HAPPEN

they have been
deluded
they bought into
deceit

words
deluded them

LISTEN

you were captive
to traditions

you were buried
you were dead
you were hostile

you judged
defrauded
your mind

BAD THINGS HAPPEN

your freedom
distressed people

LISTEN

you learn
significant truths

BAD THINGS HAPPEN


Poem: the immortal sea


the immortal sea
spread like snow
white caps of salt
and seaweed
walking the carpet
of a white beach
dreaming of flying
imagine the white
endlessness
the clean swatch
of infinity
waves of salt
returning the white
water to the white
sands, the ocean’s
immortality


Just messing around with format

Sometimes I play around with different ways to present the same words on the page.  This is a redo just out of curiosity to see how it works in block format rather than more traditional lines.   If you’re interested in seeing the original, you can find it here.  I realized I haven’t really shared much here lately, but I have been working on some things, but not ready to show the newest projects yet.  So I think I’ll just starting showing some of my “process” of writing the assorted things I’m messing around with these days.


inspired

neither god nor muse on a train in a nasty mood coming from the outside from the inside the source is unimportant the poet is the poet is the real thing Yeats is Spicer’s ghost father the poem drives the poet parasite dictating to us (the Martian) Yeats’ wife possessed by spooks “I’m here to give you metaphors”


inspired


neither god nor muse
on a train
in a nasty mood
coming from the outside
from the inside
the source is unimportant
the poet is the poet
is the real thing
Yeats is Spicer’s
ghost father
the poem drives
the poet
parasite dictating
to us (the Martian)
Yeats wife possessed
by spooks
“I’m here to give you
metaphors”


Reading Ecopoetry on Patriot Day While Sitting on the Back Deck


hummingbird soundtrack
distant rumbling
thunder? no
train yards
impersonating summer squalls
alone
sunlight scented skin
quiet rustlings
dry leaves
red umbrellas
Patriot flags
poetry pages
flapping open
shut open shut open shut
in a passing breeze
suspended in time
between stillness and movement
warmth and cool nights
morning and forever
mourning and
open shut open shut open shut
life’s pages flap open shut
hints of fall
uncertain futures
one more lonely pass around the sun
dandelion wishes
daisy loves
and love-me-nots
vanish for another year
deep distant rumbling
thunder? no
shuddering moments of loss
the sun shines still
quiet and still
warms this sun-kissed
tear-stained
pink-skinned mammal
one more day


Poem: language


by Debi


who is mother tongue
who is father country
the collective
the source of identity
language moves from place to place
water, rain, flowing
can take things away from you
the assembly, monolithic
one language, one place, one overall
you have to give up things
in the land of the free?

Poem: is there peace


by Debi


 

is there peace
.           in your heart

no

BAD THINGS HAPPEN

you    ought to
.          refuse to
.          deceive yourself

return
.           justice
.           righteousness

break
.           your thorns
.           your heart
.           your deeds

be        broken
be        cut away

so your heart

.                                    can beat


Poem: free fall


free fall night sky


free fall
by Debi

lying on the lawn
gazing up
at the endless night sky
hanging on tight
to the damp grass
a strange illusion
in the mountains
where the sky is free
from city light

lying side by side
we both sense it
this overwhelming need
to hang onto the Earth

what would happen
if I let go
a free fall
into the eternal night
would the stars
catch me
would the moon
cradle me
would the blackness
comfort me
would I die
would I live
would I fly

that night
I hung onto the grass
beside you
I’ll never know
falling up
into the night sky
but I’ll never forget
that exquisite
strange feeling
of almost falling up
at your side