Minus 42, Plus 9

a step away from the graywhite world
off the cliff and to what warm breath
what greengold chasm
what impossible delight

night wash

-es all color dim; in a wonderless sky smeared with groundlight we strain for space, craft

-ing dread into dream: mazed, lost, shot, alone. fifty years, so unfinished in peace

-ing phase by phase, layer by layer; your maker heart left to this scream

-ing of wind through the seasons

History Lessons

that time we time-machined it
found hope-lack, forward and back

drawn onward, grit and press (what
could we gain in the rewriting?)

 

parables

what is this heaven
that you should reach to me
some modern marley’s ghost
warning

(just that the veil is thin
on longest coldest nights
a snowscape
of when you fell?)

or a gentle messenger
sent to wake me
from selfish dream—
roasted meat, mulled wine
hot fire

Cold like the moon

this skimmed-milk faith
glowing a bit, a movie-god’s halo
(but blue-white, LED, not incandescent)
trembling near nightfall
under sudden river-ice

*

and the reason we want a plot
a cheer-heart resolution
to this hapless wandering
(eat, sleep, cry)—who is writing
your story with its cast of millions
cross-referenced, pronunciation guide
at the end?

*

when we stood, this close
to touching a beauty hauled round
up-horizon, the glow you would know
for all its pits and crags
until you woke again
and lost it

On another crimson-gold day with leaves falling through sunshine

it is good
how things shrivel
dreams, one by one
diminished, discarded
merely achieved
this drawing down
with the season
(how the insect ceases
flailing under silk
succumbs)
as one who will not say
now i am content
if only—
not telling you
nor leaving
some void
how would you know?
an absence
of absence
you would still find beauty
or something close
enough, not needing
more words

On a painting by Franz Marc

nature’s own masterwork
shading thoughts

(blue

*

i counted horses, dreamed
distant hill

red

*

taking fields for granted
hoof-beaten

green)

 

A new form for me–this is a series of three. Learn about the tilus, see the painting, and join the fun at Jane’s Poetry Challenge #42.

under sea-sky

all
silver
no plans no
memory we live
on what washes ashore
on wind and cloud-change
under sea-sky limits dissolve
bluegraygreen we forget
no reason no
division we live
lumpedandtumbled
alike smooth placid
pebbles
all

 

Jane’s weekly challenge #31 gives us a sparkling beach photo and a selection of atmospheric words. 

Cave Voices

1.
We don’t know starlight
so long here in the dark
Stay—the labyrinth is safe
quite safe! The monster gone
long and long ago
I didn’t mean to say We
I am quite alone

2.
I follow the thread of her voice
her singing in earth-heart
how unlike the glass-chime
grinding of the spheres
in my clockwork daylight
more like breath of stardust
life-ember hum

3.
The labyrinth is endless
and no cheating death

The thread of her voice
all stardust echoes stilled

The monster is still here
rumbling, low and long

how we fly

run at horizon
untested by gravity
the feathers will work

 
 
Will Jane believe this was inspired by her weekly challenge? It was.