Monthly Archives: July 2018


One day if that day comes we will be convinced That connection is not an accumulation of contacts But unseen engagement of the heart That realness is finding one another’s words In our own expressions so we cannot tell Where one begins and the other ends One day if that day comes we will agree […]


More and more I am aware in recent years Of so much suffering around us — The majesty of human suffering, Alfred de Vigny said.            But as I see it, no majesty Only powerlessness and events. The heart in the act of fighting loss Forced to watch dreams wither away  […]


My body opens over the city Like the deep blue sky of dawn            Every pore at rest before daylight You are not with me            I have slept through the night And woken up into a peace            Not simply absence of […]


There are times flying in my car Past midnight down the empty freeway When I feel like a warrior With firm grasp of her purpose Foot accelerating towards a destination          a divine calling An illusion borne from speed and loud music Yet under the illusion lies the consciousness That what awaits […]


Remind me how we sat across from each other I learning and you teaching Each testing the precipice of the other’s mind Fields of creativity under the night-time sky Living in the spaces between sounds Knowing fullness of the moon before it rose Unbalanced by the life inside us Feeling heavier then lighter By glimpses […]


There is the fire In the roar of spectators at a game The fire in an icy speech The fire in the red of tomatoes The fire of my mother’s heart Behind the stove The burning of oneself to chase a dream The burning of a dream To find oneself There is the fire in […]


So, where do you get that temper That thin-edged muscular tongue Penetrating gaze            Deep eyes An annihilating infinity from which they come to which they go Fiery blood beneath caramel skin Testing honesty, testing precipices, demanding attention But to write for you a bulky Bracing poem would be so untrue […]


I know I am writing this Thinking about this Rather than you To tell of trees in the distance That have turned to stone The dusty chess pieces The scar on my thumb Sure You can turn the page Close your heart like a fist Tear me from your mind, but look You too appreciate […]


A clear lake            If the heart were clear If the heart were transparent            If the heart were pure With only the purest things: A mote of dust            A blind boy’s fingers Freedom The impression on a pillow made by the […]


I’m not sure I understand what John Wilmot Is getting at when he says: There’s something Generous in mere lust. Or, am I? He could simply mean generosity of the milieu. To be singularly possessed by it The ground on which we walk The sounds about our heads, and air Become suddenly heady, interactive, Sexy. […]