Warm breath, exhaled
forming galactic nebulae in
the cold void between city noise
and the quiet darkness of the lake
joining the twinkling words
left there last week
Lost Words
I lost my words today
in the dark by the lake
felt them fall quietly
to join the lone reflection of a star
as the cold burned the last sounds
off my lips
under the pale suburban sky
Origins (Glass Labyrinth III)
All your origins are still stuck between
your toes as you run, barefoot,
across the shards of the universe
as the glass of realities collapsing
rains down on you
[you press the thoughts against your chest, reabsorbing the tears and the greatness, running with cuts under your feet and a sense of urgency snatching the threads out of your hands as your being blends into the cataclysm, and entangled you push on]
and those who remember will know you
by the embers of constellations burning
on your forehead
tracing the steps of your flight
through the catastrophic failure
of words building worlds breaking worlds, cascades of cyphers, glyphs marking your hands
as you still wonder, running,
when did the labyrinth grow so big
~~
(The part in square brackets is optional at this stage; undecided whether it’s actually part of this piece or a meta comment.)
Walls
In front of the window grow
towering houses, boulder teeth
eating away at the blue cloth
hung to dry between clouds
grey the hands
covering your eyes
Raven Night
Rearranging the folds
of night around me
I nestle the birds of my mind
down into the blanket void
smoothing black feathers
until in their gloss the stars ignite
raven dreams rustling, spilling
quiet glitter across
the bed of my little universe
Autumn Flight
Follow the flight of birds
into autumn
breathe in moss
exhale first snow
and catch falling leaf-fire
in your bare hands
Twilight Bats
Twilight bats dancing by the lake
in the sunset hour, dark wings
soaking up the autumn blue
tasting of steel and forgotten smoke
eclipsing the moon
touching falling clouds
their black silhouette notations
spelling out sleepy thoughts
of days slowing down
Strange Room
I keep dreaming
of that one strange room
at the top of the house
a room I keep forgetting
so it’s left unused
once in a while in a dream
I remember it and enter
go through what’s found there
trying to understand why
the giant space is unused
maybe it’s where dreams are stored
Unruly
I pruned myself into the semblance
of a garden vine
never prim enough to be mistaken
for the rose on the trellis
but fair enough, quiet enough
yet beneath, my roots
were always itching
twitching with the unruliness
of tree frogs creating a ruckus
a withered storm stirring
inside a cracked jar
Shape
Yesterday, I barely existed.
Today, poetry is clumsy.
Tomorrow, I’ll put myself back together,
try to remember my shape
and that of words
and how to fit into the world.
starfishskies 