A Year of Poems


a borrowed line: dependable blackness
May 20, 2010, 2:10 am
Filed under: Poetry

like kaleidoscope shards
we roll over another
the muse of a great observer

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chthonic, like
May 20, 2010, 2:04 am
Filed under: Poetry

my ultimate
my coenaesthesis
iridescence
this lambent celestial creature
that I lay beside you under
the macroscian throngs
of the racked and
crumbling valley
is not of comfort;
exactly —
but neither of fear



dinner
May 20, 2010, 1:16 am
Filed under: Poetry
she has eyes,
i know;
but the way 
-- her lips --
the way they hide
the morsels of dessert
and slip
	slowly off
her fork
(she knows i'm watching
 she closes her eyes)
sighs like in bed;
	they purse
relax
       the soft curve
of their edges;

the soft curve
of their edges...


a man reclined
May 18, 2010, 4:13 am
Filed under: Poetry
maybe	
	a father

a man reclined
	
  so slow...

evening light drains
night sky is hidden

stubble		creeps  forward
     ash	 creepsforward

pupils
	
	inhale

muscles freed

heart meanders


time
no longer(;) believed

maybe
	never a father

maybe

  never a -




(breath)


from the mouth of that famous valley
May 16, 2010, 5:06 am
Filed under: Poetry
there is a tune  playing
some day I will find  it
wandering an old highway
angry    and   unsettled

there is a   subtle structure
their     soft      firmament
and I knead my eyes before it
so imperfect       and unwell

and in grasping all these shadows
I have found clarity    aeons old
and   I  write      these   words

imperfect and unwell
just
      as
	  I
	      should


so dark
May 16, 2010, 4:18 am
Filed under: Poetry
i see regions of sharp precision
underneath you
know well only the beat
of the train i'm on
to the cold, cold lake of lust
out in that deep 
blue 
sea

i know you're a serious lady
and you're wishing you could stay
the night
"you can sleep in peace
	when this day is done"

[dirty glass slides]
[count the days i'm gone]

and so we resolved to swim
	around
in circles	so slowly
all salt
and brines
	   make me sleepy
and no matter how hard we try

   we are not afraid to die

hold on		hold on
	hold on		(hold)

let the others do what they do

(for) you are the quiet
in which i dream
           sleep
           wander.


154 – intents
October 5, 2009, 2:49 am
Filed under: Poetry

sometimes i think less about
the poetic accomplishment that
my year of poems will be
and more about how i will never
have to do work in the next
creative writing course i take