Feb 22

Sadly the distance only speaks across this space
sadly across my sad, my sad tired face
fading without any trace in this bearing day
Leslie in the rain, not in the rain
Not there but in the rhythm upon the sleeping head,
Is upon me, upon my window again
And I wonder where you are
And if you see the same,
the water distortions in early morning summer rain,
in the way the city gasoline smell fades,
everything ever again dissipates,
it all goes away, memories like radiation in the rain
triggers of a half life from another day...
All along I only wish I was not me
I wish I was not this thing
Loveless
Unbidden

the extremes of two moments derail me
and nothing else
your eyes in sunlight before me in conversation
and then myself with that memory alone
Drowning in a broken heart always with these arrows
The ones covered in old flash and blue
What do we do with the feathers
If we push it through
See little pieces of heart hanging little soul and blood

What is the will that had no will to give
But left upon its limelight post
For all the world to see
Dared to bat about its trailer heart
At heights

                    which such love should ever be
                    Not from me at least

I should always remember a summer
And forget I've lived long enough to be
Nearer to the end than even youth
And winter comes for those early,
Comes to those without love,
That whose name is sharing life,
The name of that love.

My love lies loveless in this haunted
        nothing.
It comes more for me, now for me only,

I've arrived inground
Unspoken or spoken it's all the same
Another dark night in the light of the
Sun and the absent moon
All time fades in this head confusion
I can barely move, heart-broken-blue

Facing the rain

Somewhere you look upon the shallow rain  refining the gaze and
Sadly-The-Distance-Only

                   is all there will ever
Be,

              a reminder comes back to 

me,
                  That which I was I am again

And I thought this was gone, I thought
This pain was left in my youth

Like falling in love for the first time

Never can one prepare for

Love at first sight 

And never can love be true for it

Is both quiet illusion and chaos transforming, it is gone 

A blind fool walking his dog in traffic

Rain falling from two thousand feet

Battered by wind, to land upon a window

And distort a temporal vision, a
heart-broken-blue.

Feb 21

The trees must have some disease
They look and dress in,
I had a name for that, love-is-gone,

The unbearable sorrow of a constantly breaking heart
Thoughts of you in the coming

March northwestern
light - of an early Spring
Sunday afternoon. The Model, I draw
Music from your body. Pose a pose
Before me, oh most beautiful of all
I have ever seen. Make from within me
Creations into things and being. Please
Come back to me, I feel the fading.
The days of falling have fallen, now
I hit the ground. The Fall has called 

Feb 21

Everybody falls in love it's just something
Everybody does
Something everybody knows

Everyone feels alone it's just something
Everybody knows
Something everybody does

Everyone goes home inside themselves
Everybody is a body that doesn't show
Nothing ever comes of joy
Love leaves you to die alone
Love leaves
Through all the seasons
Falling from a tree made of everything
Everything that came before

You feed the stardust alone
The years go by, there's nobody home
We end in memories of yesterday
Before moving on to nothing
Never even an odd
Dream in her mind

Feb 21

Twenty one suns have risen upon
This February and twenty moons fallen
Today we are waxing four percent
what was thought  to be terror in the firm
Was terror in the firmament the West

But was it so or was I a lone one
labels derailed shortcut electrocutes

Lead us down into errors into fair
Now is when the true terror comes being

that at least one person was let in is
it seems to have gone well immaterial
in material matted matters made
into art all thoughts, all fears,
all unthinking

and days did not come
nor was there revolution
and there was nothing
that will eradicate history there was one
small thing, these small
living thing

Strands drifting across a page
sometimes meaning flower someplace grenade

but they returned these things, they the gods
I've looked to in life to
this pathway before us words that spill
out just intime for us to hunt
and gather meaning
I have my words back
practice of the Logos

you have brought my missing friend
what more Could any love bring?

A rainbow around the almost full moon
In sparse and moving evening clouds.

Feb 21

I didn't know what to say.
I understand it's a remark
Meant for praise, but inside
The head of doubt and
Held self-esteem, I failed to reply.
My not speaking was merely
A retreat, a feast of fear
I am good at nothing, let
Alone this, this act of receiving,
Let alone a day's work.
Or maybe I'm Einstein's fish,
Laying in a dry, waterless earth,
Who believes he is let alone stupid.

An experiment to your gift. 

Feb 20

I need someone to take you off my mind
You are the last thing I think of at night
I wake up and see your eyes in the light
I lost my heart its something I can't fight

Everywhere I look I'm seeing your face
I know it's not good to dream the day away
You told me plain I'm not the one for you
Seven months since I've seen you, I'm still blue

I have moved on but my heart just won't go
Every still moment my thoughts on you rest
I wish I could call you but all I know
It's hurts like forever to let you go

So i don't

I just make pop songs

In my morning mind
While the late rains of summer fall come down
And I lay here drying out
To the rhythm and rhyme of a crying sky

Your somewhere on the 27th floor
Or behind some cabin door
I've moved on but I go nowhere
Everywhere I turn lost love is there
You and my imaginary aire

So I doubt

Then I don't

I have someone to take you off my mind
Somehow I should be doing really fine
But nothing works when time comes to my will,
I do truly still.

I make pop songs to pass
through the day
To keep my heart from making
me crazy
Little pieces of a broken
heart refrain
The crying sky again covers
my maybes

With maybe I was nothing

Yes it was sacred
The way your hand danced
As the glance in your eyes
Take in light

I can't wait to donate my brain
To science, geography and time
Will have their crevasses
Shaped into little kisses. 

Feb 20

Night of Pentacles
Specifically paradox of spectacle
Desire and the will in haunted dead castles of religion, Leslie in ley lines, lesleylines,

Her moving across my vision,
Everything had meaning in my
Unending visions...

...on my mind as the dissipation encases
and transforms within my lounges
the small spaces within my brain
electrons left in crevices

I know some of the science
but by and large I leave that to
the scientist I believe in the future

and bless the engineers but I believe
in nothing and prefer electricity and its
only in matters of imagination I prefer the

existence
of something greater but there is nothing greater

than that experience of love
tearing at your
heart and splitting
your chest apart.

I think in terms of love sickness.
I leave for the shore.

I think my own go back to these bleak waves
the intensity of all the falling
is fading but now its changing and I-
I should title this sad book "book of I"
insecurity indecision, i.-

think it might be getting worse for now I

may never have encountered in the woods
the many forests and many cities
across all abandoned deserts of hearts
anything like you ever, my love dressed
in a long dress and black boots on Monday.

She exists in performance of beauty
even pushing the doorstop with her foot
in the performance of beauty is that all
art...?..I may die without love ever returned
and it may only ever be expressed
in hidden notes scattered in digital
servers

I make something
Of the quiet sea

.... I live in driftwood
as I have always done, leaving these words
as if they meant something to someone who
is the one, but another February ends
and I'm alone.
.... At least I fell in love.
Alas, only I fell.

A decommissioned chapel. A knight of spectacles. Night-Of-Pentacles.

Living without love is like dying, but its worse.
At least with dying you become nothing
instead of a Fool, Upside Down Death, Ace of Cups,
oh Page of Swords what have you done? I live on
as a loveless sadness no god could endure.

And the boat moves
Is it forward
Leslie? No, it's just a wooden post
Leslie? No, it's just a dead rabbit
Leslie? No, no, no. That's a table.

Ah, sleepless Page, a salmon
In his golden cup. Addicted
To longing. A rose in the mirror.

Feb 19

He sits by the window,
    a window
   like
the window
  she sits by in her downtown,
hearts constantly breaking
     in two small pieces.

Heart-Constantly-Breaking,
speaks to glass,
"Where is my love?
    I ask to know where is
The one that I love.
    I ask to know so
    I can know that
My beautiful love
is by a window,
Because I believe we are connected
By vibrations of light."
  Is there a light in the window....

 And then was heard,
Heart-Constantly-Breaking to the glass,
"If ever I
Can find the ley lines,
and find the place then,
and run then I will
to anywhere in this world

and wait for that unknown day
when you will reach out and
let yourself touch me again,
those are the vibrations,
we are the sand."

And then she looked at the daylight
turning to night, at the moonglow
violet that is the evening light,
and he looked at the same,
and wondered if the color of the sky
had a name.
 You asked why I wanted to
Use your name in a song,
In a painting and I lied.
I said it was musical.

I should have said
your name was more than musical
that it was upon my lips because I love you,
I should have said your name, I love you.

Feb 18

a. I Love You.

b. You don't even know me.
a. Is that how love works?

The complexity of our drafts
Lay across the table in scratch

Hand notes and love bytes

Feb 18

two hours with an acquaintance
two hours with the love of your life
its just a glass of water

Feb 18

there's a curve to your neck and
an ivory strap
under the collar of your white shirt

Feb 18

It's now a week south of ideal,
a year past the afternoon,
the ideal afternoon: your presence
and time passing.

Wherever you are, if only I could
there be as well, at that moment
maybe a moment between the moments
where the stars could enchant
from beyond this winter's morning
blue sky, the cold, the clouds,
flesh and blood aging each moment.

the longest days are the days that pass
without you. I wonder about you,
I feel that smile, replay that smile.
I turn my head and imagine its there
across from me.
                            I guess
and the sounds of music I hear
coming from that mouth,
a symphony of pitches, sparking fire through
my brain, when you speak, the sound.

listening to that voice, looking at you, you are
she-brings-lightning-through-her-hands-to-your-body.

in the eyes
must be lost in endless joy
What is to be done?

What is to be done when you meet that
someone? One that seems like everything
was worthwhile, all of it, to get to this point,
everything that was life was life,
had to be lived
for this moment
to be born.

that moment of you, those two hours,
these moments of you, those hundred hours,
that make me wonder, and I do wonder,
in these moments without you,
what are you doing the rest of your life?

Feb 17

I prefer beauty as it is
As it is lived in beneath
Beneath that grey shirt that folds
That folds and unfolds over you
Over the body you carry round
Around through the day
That beautiful thing
You wake up in each
Time you wake up
What time has curved
Life lined and motherhood
Exhausted, yourself exhausted
Shaped into your body
And now time shapes in this space
And it drifts freely beneath
That grey shirt in my eyes
As your mind 

Editing
Me down to an essence.
You, beneath that grey
Shirt leaning against the beige
Varnish raw cut lumber table edge.

Anytime you want to lean forward

Amongst the table edges, there's 

Nothing like you leaning forward.
Something will always be
In that moment, that
Perfect moment with you. 

Your pen makes an X across the paper

And your eyes
looking up -
    Like a sky full of birds,
Just beyond your shoulder,
At -3 P.M., on Presidents Day in 2019,
On the sidewalk by

Cafe Vita, in Seattle.
And now bathed in this
Anniversary impulse, again
Beneath a sky full of birds.

Feb 17

Everything At 5 A.M. comes 

Boldly, drifting in
Waves through February snow.

You make a daily imprint onto the imagination of this servant,

alone. I was in mourning when I awoke
Suddenly, and everywhere I turned,
My heart was there, it had fetid eyes
That burned my throat as I breathed
In through the veins in my eye-skin,
and I knew I was no longer dead.
I emerged in my own Spring, but our
Earth was covered in snow.
We would not travel together, so
I stumbled into my Southern mind,
Blind and hurt, fumbling. Fools
Fool themselves about the precipitation.

To your goddess house sideways,
I look through the ice field.
To your slumbering belle temple,
I look through the travellers
Scattered in fog, under the weather.

This morning I awake to last three days,
Wooden like the cross across
My atheist salvation.

This fog has persisted, it lays upon
Frozen hills but only to my eyes.
My cold eyes, black and brown, blind
during the fog, see a round
Table and seeing no error, stand upon
Your collected and connected information.
Your beauty is winter grass,
It feeds the buffalo.
And your voice a melody that
Spills upon the early eyes, in
Another room inside my brain again
The tired travellers  

awake, but in memory still sleeping
I dream to them: I dream of you:
Floral print on black cotton, a rounded collar of soft satin, over an
Off white sheerness, earth brown cardigan
With exposed stitching.

I find gazing for your patience
Leaves me as leaves fall: in feeling.
Too early this Spring, they die being
a part of a misplaced season.

My Love Is A Misplaced Season

Winter thinks it's Spring:
I was Winter-In-The-Trees.

Lost in beautiful love, remnant
Of yesterday, tenant of the afternoon
Before, my mind bitten by beauty.
You're so beautiful, everything raves
From my pen, it bristles at fences,
Bristles and brushes on canvas as

the earth raves, its grass become flowers:
My everything world these days. Oh. My
Burning eyes, through my vision-eye

looks at you, and what beauty this world has made, and what vision
The Mountain gave to me,

looking at you sideways,

alone.

The Mountain: driving east 30 years ago
I was elevated in a flash of light
Everything connected in color and
I was retuned to Earth
Given an artist's mind
And purpose in life

Remember the moments when
You fall in love, those will be the days
That sustain the soul at its ending. 

I can finish with a thought

of your eyes, when the curves

of your body overtake the better
Part of my mind-in the curves, 

in the turns, I'm lost,
lost upon the edge of your mouth,
Your lips silent in memory,
your voice moves across me,
Spring birds in stereo, trapped in
This winter snow, think
through my ears, and then I'm distracted
distracted by your hand magic,
then its another goodbye. And I, I am
      a turn,    then   I     am
sideways,     then.  I.    Am. I am
a turn,          then  in    the   hall   I  was
            alone
          alone.      Alone
and walking somewhere
alone
in thoughts I go to my
returning despair,
      is it within that only
feels the movement in the air?
I fall apart, my misplaced Spring
Not knowing it's Fall,

The gesture from somewhere,
The tears that always know, that know
I always fall in love with someplace
I can't go, with someone I'll chase
Away with some insane idea
Poorly conveyed, a dried flower
That hopes to be forgotten
And tossed away, something
Beautiful and fleeting, a fly on
A window screen.

then the better part of me that

understands

accepting kindness as enough

And leaving
to unknowns or concern or care,
My heart falls again
Just at the thought of your name,
What is the name of that love,
The one unwelcome to not just you but
the better part of my head,
The name that takes ahold of me,
In my bones I swear all
is lost again, a smile,
because there was
a smile
               upon my retreat.
                                                All it was
Was a smile.
                         Am I so lonely?

. ..curve around your stars exploding
Nothing faded away
Your leaving turns into my gaze,
An unwanted and inappropriate
Thing, but the beast takes my eyes and
descending in knit, into your
Black boots, and upon your left foot,
Slightly it turned inward.
They follow the curves of your legs,
To the hem of your pink skirt,
They jump your breast to your
Shoulders because I fear
What you do to my heart and land at
The one strand of hair in front
Of your ear, everything to reach out
For, everything to lay sideways, everything
That tells me your beautiful
And screams at my dying eyes, look
And know your
alone...

Presidents Day

Recently on 2nd avenue, walking north, 

I said a quick goodbye and
You said

a quicker likewise
though it seemed surprised
and thought I, by leaving,
I was meeting you where you lie

and then,
and we,
     and we...

walked on
             as we are supposed to 

                             .....  and a half

block south, I realized for two

                      hours I didn't feel

                                            alone.

and now
           every hour
                 those hours
                    are sinking in.
       Sinking in.
            Sinking in the waves.

Feb 16

what had love
in its its feet
brought me that day

a small weight
a dog afternoon

seven feet from the cold weather just through that window
eight then to the winter seven
an insight to look at insight
and wonder about the which ways
you conjure

Sand and green foam
the turquoise mountains
the circle black sea
the red rivers
the endless smile

the resting head
the small sleeping weight of a dog

Because what love brings
you will never unsee.

Feb 16

falling in love again and it reminds me

love would do better to have a name

none I know of describe that feeling

of waking to your name
Where love lies in a song.
I hear ley lines in a song
when the music comes on,

     "I hear a symphony"
I hear your name,
I hear a lyre

toward the ceiling, I turn and
I hear a lyre

below, so close
it shutters my breath at speaking.
I ask a question of the morning sound.
What is love that only love

can cure? 

A thousand new names for love
           spill from my early mouth

and morning eyes.
           What is the name

   of    that        Love is
mined ore matter,
            I'm a crystal radio with a hole

in my head.
           What is the name
    of        that        love?

  of        that        Love     is
radiation in the trees.

The fractured genesis
A lonely heart mistimed
Mistakes a kindness again
Dreams a thing he'll never see

we walk between
and the slide in the brush

as we jump from our separate paths to another,

the one together we are on then
until we are not...

but there's my imagination again,
Pitching illusions, a rising strike.

are you on this path
       or is my imagination to

put me in the place of the dreamer,

   what is the name I am looking for?

when you move across my eyes

        I am lost in beauty,
and you grow around me like a labyrinth, 

and I'm lost again

at the center, the endless pathways
        of you, did you walk here

I leave this here like driftwood,
      Like dead flowers arranged
       With grasses, I love you.
             I wrote a silent book,
                 its in a dog's heart,

               but I'm a cat owner.
A cat that shit's on the floor.

So I get to see you, walking by,
An hour hear and there, listening
And glistening there in here,
and that is the best part
of this life now, these weak moments.
I get glimpses of what this life
could be, that at its pinnacle,
through everything that's ever been,
through all the love and suffering,
the eternal optimism was for one thing,
a glimpse of what this life could be:
An hour of you, a timeless hour of you.

Falls-In, what is it you fall in?
                                          Is it towards me

or is life keeping you these days
                                          with those other

loves, the one's with other names,
                                  the ones with names

not the nameless
                      one that I wake up in today?

Or am I just one
who dreams,
forever one

Limited to acquaintance,
       a passing trouble

  that passes as it
          passes, only in your mind

as someone who pressed send
      Another who pressed send. 

Where do you imagine me
        or do you imagine me

for I don't even know,
      its just a dream,

something I awake in,
something that flies

while sleeping.

I hear your name on my breath,

and the morning alarm rings,
everyday without you

is a life in a day already

a thousand times defeated,
a tear dropping

into a well of sorrow, it lands....

Beneath me which is named,
                       which is names,

beyond love which is named,
                        which is names,

eternity, infinity, these are
                        the time frames

of the...love I make up names
                    for, or even say,

of what burns for you Leslie,
                   and there we sit,
in a Sunday afternoon
of my imagination,
there with
                                            a-missing-piece,

she-who-cures-sorrow-when-she-falls-in-love
with
always-falls-in-love.

Feb 15

Rainbow Moon, called Leslie by the sad
Dwellers at the third house
On the left, as the singular dweller really
Curses the rain God....

This evening the red and indigo circles
Of the full moon are brightly past,
The waning Gibbons move about
An Aries dancing for a Virgo
At sixty six percent behind
Sparse clouds, Spica moves to the south
Across the lightly shadowed oceans
Of the face, night watching.

Does the pale light viridian within those
Hidden behind the rain
Lunar seas come from your beautiful
Eyes? Do they look upon the same
Kidney and kindness shaped pieces,
Do we ever see together and suffer
Of the same silent sea, ever we
Hear the same silence, so do we?

Feb 14

Again this week I must report

Thoughts of eyes possessed me-

Again this week I must report

Thoughts of nothing become distracting-

Again this day I awoke

To the reflection on a window,

Again these birds singing

In the morning sun.

There was the moment I was lost

In my pending existence...

Now I see today only as

A vast and endless sea, cold 

And green dark, blue to 

The horizon whose waters chill

And only can warm 

Now as the longer

Thoughts are logged aloft,

Again in driftwood forgetting, again.

Again this week I must report 

Thoughts of you possessed me-

Through my eyes possessed

That everywhere the endless is

Feb 14

Wonder
I do

When I wander
In flight
Lost in thought of you

My flights they are fear in my feats
That I will be alone as I am
And that love never is true

But then I look at you

You're so beautiful how can it be in me
How can I be so
In flight

Lost in a plane of self doubt

When will I see you again

Ley Lines  Mysteries in sound they sing

Whenever Monday comes

I will not sleep Sunday or Tuesday
She-Is-A-Ripple-In-The-Water
I will not sleep Sunday or Tuesday

Whenever Monday comes

Ley Lines Mysteries in sound they sing

When I will see you again

Lost in a plane of self doubt

In flight

How can I be so

You're so beautiful how can it be in me

But then I look at you

And that love never is true

That I will be alone as I am

My flights they are fear in my feet

Lost in thought of you

In flight

When I wander

I do 

Wonder.

Feb 14

Showing results for define:acquaintance
Associate, ally, connection,
Never then did
I realize love does not take to Fools
That surge thoughtless from hungry hearts
As smoke takes from cinders.

Never is the thought that breaks me.
I remember thoughts of your long
Thin fingers and the geometry
Across your wrists...
And angular arms...

Across office luncheonette tabletops,
The paths from your fingertips
To your shoulders was often a dance of
Accordion conveyance belts, everyday kindness
Nearly musical, everyday kindness was
In the very best way just
There.