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poetry

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Words

Words come tumbling, rumbling like rapids from the mouth So many, so different and still all remain so more the same We define and describe...

Soaked

Seattle rains fail to drown once sunned memories apprehended before birth, these passed moments linger on as slumbering ghosts haunting me...

Bled Out

Septum cleaves cloudied smiles Kisses break over drought winds Prison to what must be, not what is Words found left all but bled out

Greened Priory

woods greened near priory trots unheedingly past bountied bough eyeing felled apple turned seed lowers virgin so’ other Spring longingly

Labored

Labored rains cleanse not all Water delves to rotted root Healing e’ermore yester sins Conjoin acceptance unconditional Love labors long

المشرق

Soil once disturbed now routed, whetted appetite stirs, winds see dark flag flutter, sun rises waiting till a voice comes calling

Sojourned

Closed eyes in Seattle rain fingers forgotten sojourned Sun drowned dreams sprout forgotten forgetting til ‘morrow in marrow grow anew

Glorious Morning

glory to the sun warming on cheeks frozen in fear slumbered too long in morass what it is to be awake to be awoken by your hand no morning...

Going North Looking for East

There is no gastank to look for this time as I pull out of Everett under the curtain of June rains Pointed backwards toward the long shadow...

I, Wind

Up along the Cedar Tree I whirl Clouds are my eyes You are Sun heating me high I cannot be anything but moved Even in the cold darkness of...

In Between Thirteens

Today there is just this day remaining: one last day amongst thirteen thousand five hundred thirteen. Thirteens, these book ends. What tomes...

Weeble Wobble

Me and my foe foo row ramma. I dish and you dash and I know I got to go hoe and come on to do all that. I have no idea. No clue. Notta...

Inanity: Found

There are times when even I must wonder about my own self and the security of my sanity in a world that to me seems best described as more...

Dunno

Here this morning under the dying Autumn sun the bus rocks over gravel slick roads and fluorescents flash steadfastly over the slated cherry...

chloroform

here on the surgery table under the tin capped incandescents there lingers the lungfuls of purpled dust motes. outside there are too many....

crush

over the mound and up into autumn brown grass sky is an ocean of sand and unswept tears. i am here and i am dead. behind in these trenches...

wondering

sometimes i wonder. i wonder if i were you who i would be? where would i be? when would i be? were i you would i love me? or would i feel...

exhume

i have been waiting to put down this shovel and sit on the muddy grass. grueling hands grumble not used to this kind of work that surely my...