Mary

Rosy as sunsetting hair
and eyes colliding
a pin stuck in his hand
a thorn of plenty

As the black -
As the dove tailed bird
flew accross the -

the bird swept the sky
and the animal in me
said I would never fly

reptiles at my feet aloud squeak
the queen has killed the king and
left him to memory

In the dismal twilight I awoke
like the smoke from a chimney rising
I climbed out of bed and there before
my eyes lay the lady of the skies.

.

A Soft Light

Inside my eyes lies the blue and purple
sea and a million lights from within this
cell of vibrancy breath a splotchy thing
it swims as the ethereal jellyfish pulsing
a soft light in the darkness.

.

The Return On Tomorrow

In grey golds the wandering feet of night stood still
circled by sorrow below nesting birds such was the
pause that an audience of whispers rose into the sky
but interest waned as it always had and all withdrew
into the uncontrolled memories racing in the undergrowth
examining sideways the stars in their eyes as passers by
thrown folded into yesterday like pennies tossed on the road.

.

Notes From A Heart Flying

I think ahead
leaning on full speed
calling all stars
a shout out to your revolutions.

The clear of pure waters reflects a sky
caught in the magnificence of your smile
in glass prints a face
in the close of space between us.


.

The Now Of I Love You

Blue falls on the river
tonight falling and recoiling
in a splashing wave of stars
like frozen rain.

I miss the most of you that
I know which is a little piece
of something small but powerful
No burning flames no one the
sames just the now of I love you.

.
.

A Christmas Tale (my card for 2010)

..
..

I shut down my site so I wouldn't be tempted to post. I have to devote all my time without any distractions to my business during the second and third weeks of December. On reflection, maybe it's a little weird to do that.
I guess I'll just leave this note up for a while instead of deleting my blog.

When I was a kid I enjoyed Christmas so that's what I try to think about during the holidays...I hope you all have a nice holiday season.

Winter's Teeth

.


My world has

collapsed inward

I am still.
.

I Love You So What

.
If only I was not afraid

to touch the sky!

Alas, I have no monkey's

tail with which to try

and grasp that skinny

branch upon thy bough

that reaches out too close

for me to ever know.

.

The Word

improbable

its crushed smile

suffocates.

It sentences to hunger

then puts into empty

pockets coins of desire

soon spent decorating

the mind.

Unkind and pitiless

it is more savage

than impossible.



.

Ode To Earth Island

.

O Beauty Born of Barren Rock,

O Mortal Sculptor's Dream.

What unknown miracle beheld Thy shores,

Of the Void and the lifeless sea.


.

The Kiss

.

Afternoon knelt against

evening immature weeping

blanketed in rain purified

the soft red hills clustered in

distant shadows hid the

conventions and devices of

love.


.

The Serpent's Crest

.

He is soft

like dawn in the western sky

in his black eyes a young heart burns

to curve steel for his heraldic

crest his hands caress and craft

lures how loud beats the heart faint

heard by passing time.



.

In Cluj-Napoka

.

A new darkness slowly took possession

of town this evening - unaccustomed to

being it crept slowly in silent folds

trying to understand the place.


It walked up and knocked on porches and was

welcomed into hearts with bolted doors

it sat carefully in minds weary of standing

it settled in iron cages and a tremulous

tinkering rattle was heard through the streets

In Cluj-Napoka once consumed it went on

curiously unnoticed.


.

No Horus

I held off the distant
thunder with all my might.
Her eyes flickered but didn't
open.

Holding her gently
I whispered "I am as Horus
to the lip of Thor and
with the might of my heart
I command that thunder cease
so my love be not awakened."
then quietly I fell back
into night's shadow and
a deep sleep.

I awoke mid morning to
suffused tones of grey
and her tired eyes. She hit
me with a pillow smiled and
said "Epic Fail Horus...but at
least YOU got some f'ing sleep!"


.

Refresh

Her fast jade eyes
recorded in tinctures
subtle even whispers
now clouded and dull
ached by tired sighs.

Sparked by chance
she peers over the
walls observing the
clean swept quiet of
silence.

Lost in the tension of a taught
first bloom that opened slowly
vestiges now compressed under
a backwards lying book whose
pages hold of vast geological
black and whites lay records
unseen now viewable primal
touch and first kiss lucidly
recorded with return address.

Like exotic ships lost in the sun
still carrrying their passengers
wave to breathing foam from ocean's
depth the globes rise and breaking
the surface are quickly inhaled.


.

Swell

From the cosmos falls
first girls and first boys
constellations of lips
dip brewed in deep
dark magic

pinwheels peppermints
and cotton candy beguile
perfume smiles breathing
blossom songs thick
with simile

no storms or Edgar
Allan Poe lite preened
not even the
bed bugs bite

green-eyed stars are
swallowed whole as
they marvel tug and
tussle on her red chemise.


.

Broken Column

On the daybed mattress
I sat apart imagining rose
cheeks with toys put in boxes
back in the sun on his shelf.

His last Christmas gifts
the wii zapper toy Indian
and happy face flashlight
reflecting in the surface shine
on his electronic red corvette
piggy bank.

He charged sprang and plunked
with crystal bright eyes and
a bursting playground smile
and loved to hold sparklers every
Fourth of July.

The room's quiet rings
around me as blind wind
chimes bring me back
to the wood stained
floor - the wind took him
away again.


.

Freudian Trip

Occasionally I try to give some attention to random ideas and imagery. The thought that I've become only the promise, hope, or desire to find, get, or achieve something concrete, can be a real downer to the creative spirit. So a little while ago I closed my eyes and thought about whatever thoughts or images came into my mind and I tried to remember them without opening my eyes to write anything down.
I first found myself trudging through a dark swamp with my arms and legs fighting to get free of this sticky black goo which covered everything. It stuck to my body as I moved forward and it reminded me of when you pull chewed gum apart with your fingers to see how thin it gets before, as an almost invisible, elongated filament, it finally can't be stretched any longer and reluctantly divides into two stringy pieces. ( A few days after writing this post I got curious and I tried pulling apart a couple Trident White squares I was chewing on. I was really surprised that the gum stretched out a lot longer than I imagined it would. I had to reel it in, like a fishing line, over each hand as it kept expanding, longer in length than my outstretched arms. Luckily the Trident gum isn't very sticky. Well, back to the swamp...) As I mucked through, I was pushing away brush and sticks, and stumbling over half sunken stumps. Then I was transported into a comparatively sterile setting. I was a manilla file folder, thumb thick full of papers, leaning on and bending in against the side of an office cabinet, slipping slowly over months and years, downward onto the countertop, weakened by passing time and succumbing to the gentle tug of gravity. It was clear that the office had been abandoned before I was filed away properly into the cabinet where I belonged. Everything around me was skinned over in the disgusting office dust I remember seeing and wondering about when I worked in an office a few years ago. The swamp imagery then returned but to the back of my mind only, like wallpaper, becomeing a toned down, muted version of my previous encounter in the swamp, but running over and over again in a continuous loop. It seemed like I was able to be in two places at once. I last remember being an empty scabbard hanging on the rope belt of a shipwrecked pirate. After realizing that I was an empty scabbard I felt a longing for the knife to return.

Mona Lisa George

Mona Lisa George
smiles and millions sweat for
his eyes between their thumbs.

God was in our trust
account until eagles
died and the pyramids rotted
and arrows smoked leaves.

Tender for all debts
Public and Private
This note is.

Again

Your hair
doesn't rhyme
or
Your nose
Your eyes don't sound sweet
they are yours.

Well,
Your hands
Your tummy
Your neck
You're not mine.

I wish you were
so much
You're love
ly.

The Hit And Run Highway

On Work :

The way out
has got to be
only a fraction
of a little part
of the way in and
when we run
often it's
just that our feet
won't move.

And on Love:

So you're on
the hit and run highway
now crowded thinking "why won't
they move?"

Welcome. Drive Carefully.

Octubris

The tropic breeze tempts the trees
and a receding sun
burnt and hazed
makes gaunt phantoms
of the smallest blade

The Goodness That Is Everything

the forever
hope of
seeing
impossible
differences
resolved
magnified
so many times I
can't see
anything
more than than the
tiny goodness that
is everything





thanks for helping me learn about
writing. I Love you.



I'm taking a long and much needed vacation.

The Comet

I struck a match in the dark and lit a candle to see my way.

Tom

Portrait of Tom Goldman
2010 5b Pencil

Idiom 23

The Fragile Darkness of Dawn

A delivered silence
heats new morning
air between turning
skins

the fragile darkness of
dawn otherworldly
incomplete
inward falling

marks the erosion of
night's sweet song
spectral song loving
song

as sleeping
dreams lie
with waking
dreams half closed
behind a heart's
breaking daylight

A Marble In The Pool

Clouds in the sky
driven by winds

A sudden scream
and life begins

Above What Holds Together

On a plain facet
purely natural

sitting on a smile
was everything at all

just on top of it
and opposite
held together
by itself

The Sky Opens For Us

As we know sound and
the silence around it
we memorize each
other's language

Each letter's solitude
and between each letter
the separation

we feel for the edges
and grow as warm
springs bring the sky
open

The Day's Landscape

A new morning
orbits outwards

dust paper
and ink
flesh over bone

there appears
hope even within
darkness

I can look backwards
and not wish my forest
a single leaf

Life is so much bigger than I thought it was

I wonder if today will be like tomorrow

On Hearing Voices

I've never heard a voice
but for the slow bleating heart
thumping within
the thoracic cavity

Life sucks then you cry

...but it's also kind of hard to be sad knowing you're so happy.

Letters On A River

Around the gates I opened fast
some letters on a river passed

through fancied worlds
of built up sand
it mattered not
what I had planned

No levees held no fix
could change the path
the letters rearranged

No matter what we might envision
the river makes its own decision

We Know Our Faces Better Than Ourselves

Home is comfortable
we know it well
and observing corners
here and there
we show and tell
We know our faces
better than ourselves

Eyes rise and eyes fall
but see no planks
inside the wall
and note no right design

so I look inward when I can
to find in balance what I am
because those things up on my shelf
I knew them better than myself

We are on an Island of Time

We are on an island of time
unable to escape our memories
for the forgetting sea

Shall I try to
erase what's done
and go forward?

Or sip the past
like aging wine
the sweeter it seems
as time goes by

Beyond a tiny universe

The past can label us, but it is the future that will define us.

You were just you

I saw you sparkling
and I wanted to sparkle too
so I faked it
but I didn't know what I was
doing
Then something unexpected
happened

A little flame of my own grew
because of the things that you do

I don't think I'll ever lose it
but I'm almost afraid to use it
because it's something so
unfamiliar I don't understand it

But it makes me feel stronger
and I know that it's true
and now I can be me
because you were just you.

No Season Like This

My flesh wound bleeds profusely
and I call the sun a malignant thing...

Truly, desperation has gripped his soul
Yet, it was he who grabbed its black wings
and drove down to the sea's violent foam
while the dove soared over his head
in ecstasy with the wind.

Awaiting the ebbing of the tide, he caught a glint of sunlight on the mudbank
and he knew he was there.

The Heather Mist

like a butterfly airily tiptoes
over petals from a fallen rose

my beloved's name walks gently across my lips
transposed into shimmering echoes of forever





<3

Attention

As I remember it
I was alive because
You were the moment
you know
how it feels

Of world, part, end and start

we listen to each other learning

that what we need to know most
no one can tell us but ourselves

Gibberish

Maybe there does exist a way to say "more than words"-
with more words. Maybe it would look or sound
like gibberish to everyone but us.

i believe most

in that which does not exist

Crying with a sense of human

crying because youre happy again
that you know who you are

The harder world

the cold wind ripped through the icy dawn
it was the end of the Stone Age
man discovered fire

the friendliest smile

is that of a friend

today

is just another flying lesson

if the path ends

and you can't go any farther

before you turn around

listen for a song

the us

ours will be the first perfect marriage

the defect

every person has something in common
with someone else in the world

crickets

with day finally closed
crickets quickly
lift thier song

underneath
cleft notes
left written
with no ears
to listen

they feel
the dissonance
and
stop

time out

the love i sought is mindless
aimless
still
silent

the love i found is
beckoning
forward
lustful

my love beckons
flower-like
I have become a child.

on tradition

finding yourself
leaving for
the hidden
seasons

between the horror
and love of being someone
feeling loosening
the grip unfolding
to one way direction
stop
seeing through
wool with the sum first

then counting forever
a missing whisper

some things are so beautiful

that you don't want to remember them

Dead Man's Bells

"We are here"
he shouted from crisp lips
A deep articulated freshness
climbed the glossy sky
future timed
night broken

A friendly brawl with
the valley whore woke the
man's white throat

"You have brought me the world"

Beyond the leaves and trees
the air appeared to understand
A mocking bird from nearby spoke
and the foxgloves echoed in silent
laughter.

Requiem

we watched to see our
love die waited until
we were certain our
love was dead and
now we sing together
our requiem

depart slowly love
so that i may kindly kill you
and in my death wish of ashen dust
we may find new outlets
for our creativity

text to faith 1/11

love lies waiting deep within all as bread in the soil and sunshine
in the nebulous dust of space