You always remembered : One time, in passing, I told you “Irises are my favourite flower”. Every year on my birthday, an Iris from your garden. One year, a drawing of an eyeball. “Here’s your birthday iris,” you’d written. Sometimes – often – I hardly understood what you were talking about. You gave my meagre [...]
Tag Archives: poetry
I am lost and in loss, am losing There beyond my reach the sunlit shore metamorphosis Cold as Odysseus no Circe here no Panacaea just these worn words weary heart eyes gone dry How then can I heal? Spring so far gone and summer neatly wasted my outstretched hand brushes wheat stubble, uncarded wool rovings [...]
- Remember: No good comes of Walt Whitman – O Lamy! my Lamy! my lovely pen is gone; The pen has written every word, the letters sought not done; The book is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While reading eyes the metric verse, the poem grim and daring: But O heart! [...]
for Marie Your name floats, fades. Not actually you just the you I see in bits and bytes Your name, hovering, bifurcated. You are in parts. Crisp sheets, bone white, scratchy, not tucked Perhaps a blanket or two, warmed or cold as a cube. Halved and whole, you are twice located. Neural knitting reforming re [...]
Fill these empty spaces These interstitial echoes of wheres we’ve been. Here is the crucible Opening before you, Incandescent. See this sandpaper scar, this winsome grin. Here are my arms Here my lips, parted Here is my short-gasped breath
I imagine Your face bathed in the diffuse orange glow of a sodium street lamp The curvature of your jawline casts sharp shadows You shrug into a light leather jacket Where are we going? Your only answer a slight smile You reach for my hand unabashedly Twist your other hand through the short hair at [...]
It seems today is the first day of winter I turned my back away, thinking I would not feel the chill of your leaving Still, it blasts through me. Your heart full to bursting I wasn’t there to wish you well And cannot say goodbye.
It seems I will never sleep again Or else sleep too deeply for the rest of time Today I hate Sundays because Sundays are a day of goodbyes My soul is raw and tender with your leaving We created the past together, and all our lives are a crescendo of tomorrows But the tumult of [...]
Words won’t let me settle I held you under water My lips covered yours to steal your last breath I have been Cassiopeia tumbling inverted through the winter sky I have been Hibernia burning yet nothing all along.
Let us have this conversation, then The one that begins in separate rooms with averted glances. Let us cross paths as less than strangers In great wide swaths and arcing patterns Thank God for passageways. Every word is a strategy. We shore our defenses. Welcome to the battlefield.