Tags » Utterances

Tunnel... I'm not the only one ...

A lake lies dead … sickness fills its gills at the ice’s edge … hurried clutter and cramped fur decaying abide … an open mouth surface sucking blue gill seeking the blessings of summer air … a litter moisture white flake scatter of two foot fair channel cat and their grass carp brothers in arms … they were ships in their former life … now barely magnetic worth in a pond of a sea … the eagles land when the strength of winter holds fast against the sun’s wobble spun proclamations … they fill their purposes with craven mouthed worm gills from death’s cold clay … 418 more words


We were where we thought to be ...

Empty palms may read mere molecular blinds … those scents Spring dares not harness when the lilacs vine … beyond bordered crimes heart held inductive spinal tines … we … originations of the arbor and the eyes wine seeks to know the soul through … how can our colors be mistaken for hues the sun forbid creation …  our magic muses of black matter’s time … my hope has held the dove’s anklet alone with no other prize … save the sweet and somber carousel of your reprise … host of Spirit’s own voice in rebel sighs … and how I live to hold a penny or a pint of this presence … luck laboring might find … scatterings of laughter, warmth, resign, to our being where we thought ourselves to be …


Bending to Your Fancy

Winter’s willing bride again cradles the looking glass which Spring, as maiden, held seeming moments ago … dewy instrument of visage fortunes, the lullaby of seasonal bitter brace … Her fair sun portrait now locked in Sisters’ crystal orb, birch lace, and paper mittened graces … She stands whole in the disillusions of Persephone’s interrupted resurrection … the flocked seasons of red wheat, Her crown … pale as the wash with which She holds time bridled, bitten, and seeking … Her soul engulfed in the creation of brindle frost and frond the Love only the Poet and His Poem alone are able to awaken and possess … He reigns over Summer’s fire and Autumn in its stolen wonder … She whisper’s to the night’s fragile ebony tangle … Yours … Now … Sometimes … and Ever …

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Out Now: Utterances

Out now from the biggest little label of love, Linear Obsessional Recordings, it’s Utterances, a whopping 112 tracks & 53 page booklet downloadable now… 82 more words


Luna Moth Fever

Last poem to the present and pertinent heart … for with only a week to live …  I’ve luna moth fever with you on my mind… 85 more words


Smoke Signals

What is that? It started in your head, but God meant it for your mouth …

How do you keep the ringlets of the pebbles tossed in calm lakes from swallowing up the reflection of those you love the most … just before you give them flight … the second upon which you release their memory stones from your palm? 116 more words