Plains

Pendent wan leaves

curl agin tapering gales

over stubbled sward.

Bairns behind panes

pine for handsome gold

of Summer's lust.

Junessence

...while the jolly sun shone

 

April's Light Blooms

 

I resolved to rise and take a turn in the garden.

Sheets

Stars fall in warm eyes.

Zones of temperate dilation

burn cares away in damp groves.

Love's breath, like sunbeams,

spreads golden vistas. 

Nocturne

The door opens to stars above.

A goodnight kiss stabs 

my jaw like toothache.

Eve's breath dishevels hair.

Pistol in hand...

A bullet shatters her window.

She sleeps. 

Impossible a body so serene's

not dead.

  

Still Life Shade

 

          

"Perception, in its pure state, is, then, in very truth, a part of things."

Cercamoan

When the sweet air turns bitter

dogs bark in Occitan

and cats purr in Plattdeutsch.

Birds sing sotto voce.

My lungs, like plucked lyres,

rustle like threads thru dead leaves.

Mother has a hole in her abdomen

the size of a pugilist's fist with

the face of Jupiter's hurricane.

When the sweet air turns bitter

I sing about dogs and cats

with lost tongues as the hurricane's

bloodshot eye burns dead leaves.

Dose Oubli

Roused automata,

host on dresser top,

daily Matin's hushed Mass

hums discreetly from

Arisarum vulgare

Numbing Liturgy,

my tiny hand unsure

as ears brim with

Angels' chorus

I approach the Auto da fé,

a petit mort that grows

with every step away

from host's home.

Patachon

 

Wave Crests Above

"au jour d'aujourd'hui"

 

Angel , Duchess of the Sidewalks

 

"..for we are all children of one breast, teasing each other, squabbling, but still unable to separate."

Translation

The turn from text to context opens a path away from being. Discount deeds, being will always already have been breath's deed.

An account anterior to thought's alterity. Exegetical horizons, distant clearings, illumine dusk in bruised blue. Light grows faint as soft words spoken open locked doors. All is at hand, naked as starless night. Print's black impression blankets heaths. Breath folds and unfolds the terms. Form tucks tongues in reverie. Rest relinquishes any wish to signify. 

Dream anoints spirit. The distance from everything is equal. It is an alchemy where pale leaves become gold coins as they touch ground. 

   

Pristine Drifts Narrow Slits to Nothing

Pale banks fillet

pristine drifts,

carved lacunae

of light's scalpel.

Powdered faces,

ashen drawn Sun, 

narrow eye slits 

to nothing.

Son Arises

 

"Aquesta viva fuente, que deseo/ En este pan de vida yo la veo.."

Viola

 

"...les jeunes grâces des arcs jaillir en des inclinaisons féminines de tiges"

Protest

Our protest arranges an assignation with death.

In open space, the agora, we can't catch our breath.

So much to and fro, loss and gain, our craft heaves

On the cusp of sinking, swallowed by soaked leaves.

Eyes shine forged beams above high heather.

Hand in hand, like burrs fixed, we're one feather

Which buoys up to embrace bright Suns

And swiftly pass what pulse outruns.    

Zone

Stars cling to her eyes.

Sun's warmth, like love's breath,

upon my neck...

So many zones apart, 

temporal dilation 

makes beds of eyes

and skin.

Burn cares away 

in thick groves where

Parliaments take flight. 

The day flags.

Art sits bitter 

in dusk's lap.

Skyline

She made herself a bed within my eyes.

Liar's Gospel

I choose to lie because

I wish to void

the imperfection of being.

Flawless vistas compel 

inexorable subterfuge.

It is a perpetual battle

against becoming vestigial.

Every lie a jewel,

multifaceted,  

capturing riches. 

Jinn