round

when they leave you

give them flowers

gift of the
sorrow
round yr
heart

bring

you bring them flowers

everyday

they make moments

bright with sorrow

night thunder

night thunder

a soft curtain billows
catchment of air

rainfall

first moist kiss
upon the
window upon the
world

leaves
of the dead poet
Michael
sift in a paperback sieve

I ignite
a nicotine missile

smoke consistently
as a means to death

and

for an illusion of company
a smoke filled room

in my
weird night’s hermitage
I can no longer sleep

fall

stars holding silence
like glass
one may fall
all sadness
consumed
as if to fall
from eternity
were magic

 

 

look

you look at the sky
cause it’s beautiful
when i look at you
i see the sky

 

poker

i play poker
with a pack
of poems
the 4 rhymes

of love
up my sleeve
like aces
i raise you
my undies to yr
bra less surface
and 2 consonants
ah huh

Bruce Springsteen and Melissa Etheridge – Thunder Road

cool

 

I am like the cows on the paddock

my feet in the cool grass

 

 

reach

 

when I reach for you
in the empty room
I hear the darkness breathing

 

 

snapshot

in the snapshot of sky
a memory
you are always nineteen

 

 

gift

your love is a gift
under another’s tree
i see it there
and i want to touch it

says

this is a poem
that says
what
it
is

mist pad

 

a spirit writes the words mist pad
on a shower screen
the water running
through its body
like a river

 

 

talking

 

i am talking out of habit
like tying your shoe laces
or brushing your hair
though my life is full of shortcuts
and i don’t really need to do laces
because i don’t undo them in the first
and i don’t need to brush my hair
because when it’s wet
i dry it with a towel
and shake it loose
like a lion though i’m not really a lion
i’m more an eagle
because i dream of flying a lot
and they say well i read it
at least if you dream of flying
over strange cities you’re really an alien
from another life and hey
that’s cool but i don’t really think
i’m an alien i just think
my life’s full of shortcuts

 

happily

if you are not the sky
how can the birds be flying
so happily
in my heart



angels

 

birds take feathers to the sky
give them to Angels
who give them to wind

 

 

ghost

The ghost came so quietly
I knew not she appeared
till I turned and saw her
smiling sadly there.

She looked upon the mirror
as if her image saw
how sadly sweet she smiled
when she had lived before.

 

if

if the day is beautiful
the birds will sing it
a cat may purr it

 

follow

one must keep
a clutter free space
on the seat
beside them
for the spirits
who follow us
around
to sit upon
to show them
in their world
that we
care for them

 

sits

what lives
longer
than love
is the
memory
of love

it doesn’t
die
when the
person
dies

or they
leave you

it sits
inside
you and

every morning
it wakens

as if they

had never left