Small burst of light, stars, most of them named,
Bounce with the rhythm and rise of this night walk -
Punctuating dots for tonight’s long cloaked sentences.
Vast and beguiling, sky chilled and huge
Beyond any eyes' capacities to see
They ask me to fly out light years beyond imagining’s chase
Just stars, I describe them that way to myself -
They start in small ways
Collections of energetic particles
Light fused in bright twisting points -
Sustained through nuclear interface,
United till the implosion and even then, grand.
They spin to sing in chimed notes overhead
Inviting me to look up and begin to leap
From one to the next and farther away.
Clusters lead in light pocked chains to an enormity
That pulls me closer to the ground
And to the small warmth of my mammal's body
I feel my ribs rise and my back arch
Taking in the air
And some of the particles that reach me here.
Just enough of the night-spark to light my brain
And ignite a flash of a dream that hints
At a body and mind beyond these dim, small aches-
And some steps that take me beyond
All of these memorized endings
And well worn rights and lefts.
March 3, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Instead of Sleeping
When I woke up my head filled with an old and jagged story. A night spawned phantasm of a forgotten school friend-a short boy who often got caught reaching for the high-shelved honey, a boy who later became red-faced and chubby, squeezed into snug slacks with lint at the pockets.
The unsettled piece came one day when he lied to protect me after my theft from the corner store. I gave him over without flinching- Quick and painless. He was just the fat kid. We did not speak again. It was done, I thought.
Last night, instead of sleeping, I dream-chased him down, twisting the story, adding a deleting words to soften the ending. To bend consequence, to step out of time- to adjust impact with adverbs and passive voice. No trick of language could staunch truth's red flow.
That I was a traitor to that forgotten friend, that he must have forgotten me as well and if not, had he forgiven? Oh, please, please, this was years ago. I paid my dues and I am not that cowardly boy from decades ago who once sold his nobility for convenience! But the old lie bit hard.
I dipped in and out of fitful sleep and unsuccessful re-considerations. Each bend opened onto more unresolved ebbs and tributaries and these sought a bigger river of action linked to reaction and of truce coming in the calm of black solitude. Even in surrender I hugged my pillow close and let the river flow as it would.
February 19, 2010
The unsettled piece came one day when he lied to protect me after my theft from the corner store. I gave him over without flinching- Quick and painless. He was just the fat kid. We did not speak again. It was done, I thought.
Last night, instead of sleeping, I dream-chased him down, twisting the story, adding a deleting words to soften the ending. To bend consequence, to step out of time- to adjust impact with adverbs and passive voice. No trick of language could staunch truth's red flow.
That I was a traitor to that forgotten friend, that he must have forgotten me as well and if not, had he forgiven? Oh, please, please, this was years ago. I paid my dues and I am not that cowardly boy from decades ago who once sold his nobility for convenience! But the old lie bit hard.
I dipped in and out of fitful sleep and unsuccessful re-considerations. Each bend opened onto more unresolved ebbs and tributaries and these sought a bigger river of action linked to reaction and of truce coming in the calm of black solitude. Even in surrender I hugged my pillow close and let the river flow as it would.
February 19, 2010
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