poetry is combat—
soul verses world
poems
The chaos-harmony of life
I swing like a kid
and fall like an adult;
cry tears of gratitude
and pray in smiles;
hug and love, and later
hide under the covers—
wildly and humbly living
from dawn to the stars,
and ever back again
Insomnia ticking
three o’clock —
anxiety, regret
in the depths of worry
swept away in the
whirlwind of nothing —
a horrible nothing
blackout poetry created from Octave Mirbeau, The Diary of
Summer wonder
late June, monsoon — kaboom!
patter, splatter, fat drops gather
splats, taps, windowpane raps
wind whips, swish, whish —
summer’s rumbling thunder
flash, crash, lightning dash
plash, splash, sky unlashed!
January breeze
winter morning birds
weave song through misty gray clouds
leaves add harmony
Always true
I love to kiss your lying lips —
when we love our honesty slips
but soul to soul is always true —
a love lie is truth in another hue
Ravish
it is raining!
no, not water
from clouds
but dead leaves
from july trees
scorched by
a brutal heat
too sunburnt
to evergreen
falling, fallen
brittle brown
leafy teardrops
raining down
the dry warm
forlorn face of
mother earth
Selves-realization
i am so many people
it’s impossible to be myself
but i can almost always
be at least one of myselves
Talons
Owls are hunters
Humans are mechanical separators —
separating by metal machines
meat from bones
life from death
fat from essence —
but in Nature, where Man used to come from
a long time ago — remember it? —
none of those things is separable.
BRAIN from SENSE
Killing nature
the wilderness died
of a broken heart —
from bad decisions and
evil battles of grown men
blackout poetry created from Rafe Martin, Birdwing, 2005
Wilted
The past falls away in wilted petals,
New things will come, probably nettles.
Unreasonably warm in Phoenix
We live in an Arizona desert town
where winter is brown and green
and summer is green and brown
with 300 annual days of sunscreen
our autumn’s unreasonably warm
and springtime is mostly too hot
here we live for every rainstorm
and the seasons—well, they’re not.
Agony of anxious
Fear —
not running-from-bear
but running-from-life
Courage —
not getting-up-the-nerve
but getting-up-every-day