Wednesday, May 23, 2012

scarified sacrifice (eclipse of the sun)

weird bird utters other

a strange glow manifest in the blood

waxy yellow light of solar eclipse

irreality in the temple grounds

voices from the himalayas in waves

wash on the occluded hillside

the enchanted sidewalk home

evening's intoxication overspills

the deepest finest red rose of twilight

Eclipse of the Sun
20 May 2012

Monday, May 21, 2012

Naive Poem


flowers frieze into stylized design
duck and ducklings swim in a line
seen from a fantastic height
the quixotic pedestrian bridge

shoreline meadow alone
water in the creek
seven black-necked geese
large brown rabbits in a small herd

superabundant birdsong
birds unseen in the trees
the industrious bumble invades
an ultra-orange poppy

mocha hash chocolate
five pointed star in brilliant blue foil
in fennel-green borders of the reserve
red-winged blackbird rules the day

matings songs swell
into a vertiginous hurdy gurdy
incarnadine finches
fly ahead up the path

wind on the cove beneath me
mesh generation fifty seabirds
spaced apart on the grid
cormorants fish the boundaries

grass shelter on the last hillock
someone may have lain here first
below the insistent wind
food from home

mount tamalpais is dim
the bridge is evanescent
mild bay mist obscures the west
I want to live in the diamond sparkle


the wind over me and down to the cove
gusts play on the water
the sunny surface becomes a kite

wind streams around me
down hundreds of yards to the water
the surface like a great kite

grass moves iridescent
the wind turns its red side
to its green side

12 May 2012

Friday, May 4, 2012

Baneful Bagatelles

with wisdom disillusionment

saw a guy with two lobes on one ear
wonder if he had a secret twin listening in

the winter wind
sweeps the old house
asking for my whereabouts

a curious lamp from long ago
flickers when the wind
blows shut my window

a haunted tin pot
rattles off somewhere
a dinner for ghosts consisting of air

leave me alone I desperately say
and just for the moment
the wind went away

the cathedral of meth
 is lit from within
by the sensory impressions
 of its strange denizens

a patch of nowhere forever

silence in the street today
was stunning
like another door closing on deafness

motionless sunlight on the hills
added to this effect
no one else in the world
for a moment

the death mask an actor wears is apt to become his face

two gloomy ravens
hung low in a winter tree
sky turned charcoal gray

the past is something we drag with us like a grand piano stuffed with viscous horses

heavy wind and rain
came down the street
like everything else

 I'm sick of all the squares on the sidewalk

a dream
on the night of the solstice
full lunar eclipse
a pattern of ants
on the wall

the stars' mockery

tule fog came
ushering in vagueness
trees appear as the heads
of old acquaintances
houses vanish behind
diffuse street lights
tail-lights red shift
exaggerated silence

memories are corridors
countless in number
leading in all directions
from the mirror ball
at the center of the mind

the past is not far away
it's not even the past anyway

I pull over for repair
the murderous world of traffic
plunges on without me

owsley stanley
gone into the convulsive australian 
with the other large early carnivores
with the devils with the zebra wolves
with the giant flightless parrots

open another room in a mansion in the sky
you floated all boats
my own bateau ivre in sixty-eight
has to be the hand of fate
how inscrutable and vast a reckoning

through the night time fog
a distant television
someone else up late

siren's soft finial
lashed to a lathe
rain parades
streets end at the water
supper clubs on the pier

momentary ireland
clouds land on green hills
thought of sheep

a dream
george zimmer in a business suit
walking on a financial district sidewalk
shooting up with a glass syringe

every time I look out the window
I see the same guy
standing in my backyard
looking in
with his eyes closed

it's my wife's ex-husband
old stage-door johnny
and two pastures away
there's another guy standing
her third husband a painter

way off on the hillside
I can still see her first husband
nonchalant as ever
somewhat weathered by the years
no one recalls his name anymore

Her second husband is out there too
he's hidden in a glade
down by the creek
I glimpse him through the trees
when the leaves are down on the old logging road

They're all dead of course
and in my own season
I'll join them out there one day
tough in winter flowers in spring
the long slow summer the gaudy falling leaves


torn clouds
squid maps
a twisted sky

the past is a bed of nails

the abominable snow lady

paroxysms of extinction

clive evil

catacombs honeycomb remembrance

the stars' mockery