Wednesday, March 31, 2010

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

Saturday, March 13, 2010

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.

Friday, March 12, 2010


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.

Thursday, March 11, 2010


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
time had no meaning simply
twists and warps with unknowing
passage and
and then the faintest light appeared
through milky lens
pulling the pieces of me towards
and an eager rush to feel
the sunlight and fly,
just fly.

Tuesday, March 02, 2010

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


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.