Tag: poetry

  • Square Knot

    500px-Reef_knot.svg
    Used with permission. Source Wikipedia.

    from opposite directions each line meets, then intersects the other
    the tiny checked pattern of the mantle glistening
    red-flecked on white in a sea of blue swirling down its length
    softly, almost imperceptibly, the kern emits a subtle hiss in adjustment

    and around again, now skyward, arching in perfect symmetry towards the others each
    from opposite directions, again, each line meets, then intersects the other
    the patterns challenge each other in passing and on through the loops
    and to end with a quick squeak, the final tightening, wound and rewound

  • Sunday Suburbia

    Tonight you fell asleep in my arms.

    The rhythm of your breathing
    from time to time
    finding its synchronicity with mine.

    The images of the two entwined
    develop and devolve
    under the flickering light of the screen opposite
    a string of words and images flashing…flooding.

    And in that, you under my arm sinking into the elusive oblivion
    leading the way as that last bit of gin makes its way past my gullet.

  • Which Rich

    sitting here waiting for the drugs to kick in
    this means as much now as it always has
    but the way is different, the substance of it
    another sip to satisfy the simple need,
    indeed

    to fuel and be fueled, in ritual and ransom
    forcing the darkness, as one does, behind
    between the two windows, under the lamp
    as the intended course of action gets
    traction

  • Six Boonville Haiku

      Inspired by Ellery Twining

    at six ravens ranch
    the towering redwoods sway
    gently in the breeze

    initial contact
    tentative at first but not
    unwilling to please

    Anderson Valley
    bakes in the afternoon sun
    just before the fog

    and upon the end
    glistening and glinting in
    the fresh morning light

    the road back and forth
    through the mountains to the shore
    blackberries ripen then burst

    sparring not sparing
    in the moment deeper still
    promises to keep

  • April 11, 2009 – 20 Miles Off 101

    this time of year you can hear clearly the rushing intent of the stream even though it can’t be seen

    it cuts
    every second it’s cutting, moving and cutting, zig-zagging, digging deeper as it goes, a perfect perpetuity

    rippling cacophony
    the sound of it becomes everything, negates everything, is as if unstoppable, its roaring way made

    it swirls
    instead of faltering, swells into haystacks defying its state, then calmly into eddies and calmly into pools

    the canyon
    it’s gnawed sits in gentle acceptance, almost embracing, always approaching but never encroaching

    waiting to be washed away

  • Powers of Observation

    not plain to the eye as far as you or I can see
    but plainly free to be seen
    by eyes keen of the hawk
    across the field and up the
    tree

    perception has levels, we quickly conclude
    proudly
    and out of thin air
    deducing

    and upon the virtues of specialization
    a tangent is unwittingly
    embraced
    and so forth into
    the complexities
    we only think we understand
    but really don’t

    his body bobs smoothly as the branch
    of the tree waivers just so
    on a breeze implied
    but his gaze is fixed

    we agree upon a rodent at first, then address specificity
    surmising from the grass
    dangling from a talon
    a mouse

    and that’s when, like a reflex, from the tree he dropped
    a flash of wings and
    his broad tail fanning
    out

    there was a moment when we were
    both aware of
    each other’s gasp &
    the breath held as the suspense
    played out

    then back to the perch in a bound
    settling in and smoothing feathers before
    with three quick snips
    consuming our
    confirmation

  • Skin, Fat, Spice

    the very essence
    the connection between beings
    the barrier and the welcoming touch

    there is a rhythm
    there is an association
    there is a will & there is a way

    this is an answer
    this changes the questions
    this gives as it takes away

    a temptation
    a tongue tip tap
    a taste to be tackled

    skin
    fat
    spice

  • Peer Review

    there’s so much to look at
    and I keep looking and looking
    and when I see I want to see more
    and the more I see the more connections are made
    and those connections
    beget more connections that are tangential
    they are related
    a cousin
    they are connected
    by the sinew of commonality
    of which I do not question
    I just keep looking and looking
    knowing that one day I will not see it all
    but I will get my fill just the same

  • If Only for a Moment

    in the bed
    in the dark
    where if anything were to happen
    if there was even a chance…

    in the dim flicker of the television
    in the cool breeze of the evening’s end
    the wine making the impossible seem
    possible

    if only for a moment

    displayed like temptation
    stretched out
    laid back
    an island, entire to itself

  • With Aristotle

    Aristotle in the back yard instead of raking the leaves that crackle and rustle under foot

    Supposing that knowledge is one of those things that is fine and valuable

    Considering each thought as it comes to mind – wondering if, fleetingly or otherwise, each is an action unto itself

    Of these some are held to be affections peculiar to the soul itself, others belong to the animals

    Falling behind the effort to keep pace as the awareness of every moment’s passing stacks upon its predecessor

    the inquiry, that is, about substance and what a thing is — perhaps someone might think

    Thinking about thinking, thoughts about thoughts, daydreams dangle loosely and tangle into knotty heaps

    For straightness is inseparable if indeed it is impossible without a body

    A murder of crows acts as a distraction and an awareness of my re-action drives me inside to seek refuge from the endless possibilities