Heaven's Smithy

 

"Floor of copper, floor of gold....Beyond the custom-house door, ajar, the street at sunset seemed aflame."

Bright Showers

Puddle steps mar

reflection.

Waves distort aspects

as moist air translates

her hair's scent

to redolent Dianthus.

Skyline's penumbra stretches

'cross obsidian streets

as we dissolve lento

in downpours of light.

 

Bright Ruby Dusk

 

"...distills the luminous secret"

The Grid

The petite and ubiquitous 

bowling greens of suburbia

beyond freeways

Where the love made is 

ephemeral and frayed

as travel toothbrushes. 

Overcast

Skinflint sky above,

clouds hold rain

like bands of misers.

They banish Sun 

and dull day's shine 

to the leaden mean. 

Été

"Day at last dawns; and like the raised curtains of a tabernacle, golden clouds furling into large scrolls uncover the sky." Flaubert, The Temptation of St. Anthony.

 

Vanity Set Moon

 

"Je t'adore à l'égal de la voûte nocturne..."

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.