National Poetry Month - Day 30

Is there a sort of death in stillness?
In silence? In turning in on yourself
so much so that you are translucent. Poor
translucent stagnation; this thing that won't allow us to step forward,
we can't always be circling the same decisions.
There are no answers lying in the shadows of circumferences.
What we need is what we dream
desires
those things we have forbidden ourselves from...

National Poetry Month - Day 29

Another late one...this is almost over, but until the end of today...I'mma keep on truckin...

I could be the Mad Max of the mornings
unconciously pressing the petal
I jerk forward, feel myself streaking
the pre-dawn feels collapsible around me
I know it's not, that there are things that might be sturdier than myself;
I haven't met them yet, still aware they might exist.

National Poetry Month - Day 28

I can't imagine if your words held any beauty
because your mouth perfected a sneer
a scar across your face. I'd already lived this present
past tense on what I knew you were saying
though you'd somehow gone mute
or I went deaf, suddenly. We'd stopped speaking
the same riddles months ago. Tongue-twisting a lie to fit the scene of the crime.
I would ask for mercy if it were yours to grant.
You play executioner in bedsheets
a cop to my increasingly convincing robber. I think the bad guy wins
today. I think I stole your heart and got away...

National Poetry Month - Day 27

I'll leave the baggage you tried to make me shoulder on your front porch
between the potted begonia and the dying fern
I hope you recognize them;
if you don't they will surely recognize you
and your handwriting scribbled on the tags
and the scent of you or moreso a scene like dying.

National Poetry Month - Day 26

I have been under the weather since yesterday....here's yesterday's poem:

Exhaustion
means I'm pass the point of caring
about the complexity of the webs we weave
or wove in the past with a passion

National Poetry Month - Day 25

Designing my own desires
I give firm voice to exactly what I want. Not questioning,
no wish or hope. These are the things I cannot give up
a dream from which I can't re-awaken.

National Poetry Month - Day 24

The sun is disappearing behind these white plastic blinds
I barely notice the stress my eyes are under
reading by twilight. I strain to maintain this connection
to something else; words bigger than myself. I can't help it:

I built dreams on a story...

National Poetry Month - Day 23

Preface: Today was a really sexually-charged writing day; who knows why...but I was writing and grinning like a fool.

I can hold my hand right here
just here, just so
silently, unless smirks speak
then I'm yelling "victory..."

My other fingers are lost somewhere
wall hair hip, hip hair,
wall breast. They are so inconsistent
unlike the others steady in their determination. I can hold you up

my hand
right here, just here, just so
holding you cupped to catch you should you fall

National Poetry Month - Day 22

Dear You,
awkwardly standing across the room
your heart is a sabbatical shadow blooming
outwards like a mid-spring cherry blossom. I
am a refugee shipwrecked in your peripheral
a wounded satellite barely keeping orbit. I build beds
waiting for the day you might eclipse me
an outer ring of light, a radiance outpouring
in waves; to drown me.


photo copyright NASA

National Poetry Month - Day 21

Sin never sleeps, so they call me an insomniac
my eyeballs are allergic to the lids, blinking
leaves me tearing; like I believe in emotions.
With anger I'm most intimate, one night stand
where the day never comes.