No Escape

The eye blinks

a life ends

a life begins

A tear falls

and a flower blooms

in the dust of the desert

then withers under the

relentless sun

A hawk circles high, hunting

and the clouds move across

the sky, whispering

time is fleeting

The clock ticks

a door opens

a door closes

and the footsteps

echo on the stone floor, fading

6th Floor

The office mammals wrestle

over the copier

while the phone rings

endlessly in the

cavern of cubes.

How can an artist

live in this jungle?

The pigs and bears laugh

at such a silly

thought, amused.

Fig Eater

Tormented by words that you said,

or words I imagined

while lost in thoughts

of a cosmic connection.

You played the game well,

I must say

I was completely deluded

and somewhat persuaded

that it could

be more than simply your need for

dinner and a date

(with figs for dessert).

Did I dream that you

wanted me near you?

Did you smile when I drove

all those miles in the rain?

Perhaps it was just

a bad movie with

an ending no one

could love or digest
when all you really wanted
was to eat figs dipped
in the finest regret.

Secrets

Hesperos rises,
a beacon in the
blue velvet of
endless universe.

Your voice is a whisper.

She guards her
secrets well
among the stars
with infinite longing.

I dream of you, still.

Metamorphosis

wrapped in a prison of silk

and irony

i melted

into the cosmos where the nothing goes.

there was no sound or reason

in the deepest darkness of

empty space

dissolving.

time had no meaning simply

twists and warps with unknowing

passage and

purpose.

and then the faintest light appeared

through milky lens

distorted

pulling the pieces of me towards

symmetry

and an eager rush to feel

the sunlight and fly,

just fly.

Magic City

magic, is there magic here

in this neon jungle where

the eyes that watch you

know things you don't want

to know and buildings rise

in dirty towers like prison walls

magic, is there magic in

the peeling paint and papers

with faded words that

drip on the street in

rivers of blue blood

filling the sewer with more

politics and religion

magic, is there magic in

the lines that mark the spaces

where good and evil

divide and go their

separate ways leaving

the sidewalks for those

with empty stomachs

magic, there is no magic here

Daydreamer

Standing where the ocean

reaches the sand before

pulling back in a gentle breath

the sea inhales lazily, drawing

the warm water around our toes

in a silky caress.

The sun hangs low on the

edge of the earth,

painting the sky with blood and fire.

I feel you reach for my hand

as we watch the light fade and

the evening star wink in

sleepy reception.
~
Meanwhile, the car behind me honks.
Green Light! Go!
Snow on the windshield,
grey buildings, grey street,
grey sky. Blue me.