Drawn Whisper of Light – A Poem

 

Drawn Whisper of Light

Living sacrifice for the dying as
the temporary
hover in the
border between a specter
of what was
and the shadow of
what is to be.
The value of imperatives
compete for our
narrow assiduities.

Outside along the concrete
autumn leaves clatter.
In a drawn whisper of light
through the blinds
the bedroom
sits occupied
by the fragility of a man.

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House of Isolation – A Poem

House of Isolation

A one day business trip stretched
into three.
The roads were bad
with dangerous flooding
along the river.

I walked through the glass doors of the eight floor office building
and was informed by a pretty little girl
in a candy red jacket
that the meeting was canceled and there were no plans to reschedule.

People in gray suits passed us on their way to the elevators as I attempted
to make small talk with her.
She did not seem to want to commit
so I told her there was no hurry.

We met after she got off work and walked to a bar
that served fish and chips
breaded
limed
and ready.

I told her about butterfly frivolity and she said she
had weeds in her garden with the prettiest of flowers that
danced rooted
in the evening.

Her friends were there
coworkers of a drunken generation
laughing in unison
laughing at a future
bleached
uncertain.

At her car I kissed her cheek and said I was leaving first thing in the morning.
She told me that
due to the moon’s unnaturally close
proximity
to the earth
the rivers were flooded
and all of the roads out of town
were closed.

“We’ll meet at the library tomorrow” she said giving me her phone number.
“For lunch.”

In the hotel room that night I felt alienated and distraught so I opened the window
and let the night stream in
but it only complicated matters with
a dangerous metamorphic
fragrance
creeping in the air.

Walking through the library I was a captivated by how her hand paused
as she changed isles
fingers trailing slenderly
over the shelved spines of the neglected books.

“I am building a house of isolation” I said to her
boldly
clutching her hand.

Stopping she wrapped her other her arm around me
and
pulled
me
near
to her
heated breath.
My earlobe burned
by her low
whispered
voice

“You’re a child worshiping the blowing sands swirling
in the desert.”

The sun surrendered its hold over the day
as the moon pulled
ever closer to the earth
surging the waters into a frenzy
causing a great
mass of cloud
to spread across the sky and the rain it
released
streamed down on us
vengefully
when we left the library and made our way to her house.
She hung up her wet candy red jacket and I rested
my black umbrella
in a corner
of the entrance hall.
I helped to remove her stockings
kissed her stomach
explored
her softness.

Naked to each other she assumed a cloak of dominance
and I was swayed
submissive.
She coaxed me.
My longing confidence
my neglected lust
slipping into her
becoming bound between her legs
enwrapped in her arms
while the half-light from outside blandly seeped through
the window.

Night came and the clouds parted.
A fog rose to mask the stars and we could feel the moon
begin to recede.

“The roads will be clear for you tomorrow.
Isolation
is waiting.”

We laid together with my head resting on her chest
and my hand
on her inner thigh.
She had a Julie London record playing and I stared
at her Dali print
hanging on the wall.
Outside the pretty weed flowers danced refreshed.
I felt her breast swell against my cheek
whenever she would inhale.
Her fingertips lightly skipped along my back.

I thought about the next day
with its grim morning waiting anxious
for me
in anticipation.
Looking up at her face I watched her lips twist into
a sweet smile.
Eyes covered in shadowed intent.
Constrained I turned my face to bury it in her warm flesh
and in the reassurances I found then only to be
chained
to a broken resolve.

Memorandum – A Poem

 

Memorandum

I drift in the green haze of the dust
at sunset
with the linoleum reflection
of the moon
smeared out across the floor.

Let’s begin again where we left off
etching our memorandum
in the stale

air

conditioned room
as our memories hunt
us
in the bending
light.

Your name used to be Daisy
until you changed it
you said
to something less

extreme.

And I don’t resent you
now
but only feel

still

that there was something left
unchallenged
between us.
Maybe it was in my willingness to
postpone
the inevitable
or in the scent of your imagination that
always
filled the room.

I would travel back in time to find the tears
that fell

if I could

to
gather them in the moss and disguise
them
as dew

but the haze has grown
too thick
over the years

and over a moment that opened
only briefly
to us

before the door shut and the small key
we had
broke in the lock.

Reach – A Poem

reach
beneath me
into the subatomic
dive
careless
your knife slices
my soul
coagulates
a red bush leaves
shiver
my lips
crack against the cold
of your skin
pink
raw and fresh
suffocating
a breeze
tosses
strands of hair
brown
over
green eyes
the flesh peels
opens
envelops
a dawn
washes your fingers
orange
over grass
dormant in the
field

A Photograph Life – A Poem

a photograph life
sometimes
when opening my
mouth
I forget to breathe

(no
photo accompaniment)

kiss on the shore
where the wind died
my funeral
papers
fluttered
through the heated crowds

secrets overheard no doubt
no image

remains

snapshot sidewalk
rustic
shoe beat down

keep yourself
I say
and stay
a memory
fade to yellow and black

bicycle ride
on wet suburban streets
sudden sun after
quick passing rain
fogs
you up ahead

disappear

Patient Absurdities – A Poem

 

Patient Absurdities

I feel as if I am standing behind myself.
Happiness only exists
as a metaphor. Thoughts numbered themselves
and lined up in two rows. Here words
find no compassion.

We are the assailants in the courtyard
sparking fires. Discussing politics. Engaging
in games of chance.

Eye at the window and she five meters
away from me. Searching for baby powder
in the rubble and the broken glass. Three hours
to the border
of New York. Harbor waves break bright red.

Less now than my own shadow I doubt my senses.
A golden landscape begins to freeze. I touch
the skin of my empty hand. Blood
echoes in the tunnels.

Let the guards sleep. Patient absurdities
will blend us together. Slip past
our fragile gatherings on the commons. I am
walking when the first snow
falls on the horizon.