Drop

i am ready -
like the salty droplet
sparkling on my chin
stretched round by dull tension
refracting all the light that now passes through
having spent itself wetting a vanishing path
hoping it is still heavy enough-
to let go

Instruments

What imagination discovers through a child’s lens-
What vibrates intuition’s resonating strings,
What the measuring intellect reaches out to grasp-
The clay body, impressed, remembers.

Against Knowledge

nothing is a thing
that wasn’t first a process
that wasn’t first a butterfly
before it was pinned to cork

parades and much too much to grasp,
the living are not among the known

decency asks sometimes for ignorance
and shrouds

lepidopterists are a callous breed

Rain Dancer

she squinted at us in the
gathering dust and trapped
a few hard-won tears in her crow’s feet
her white hair flailing wildly

her ululations escaped as she twirled
and we knew in a flash
that the dancer never really left -
our village was not yet ridiculous
enough for a dry joke

her toes rapidly pitter-pattered
pocking the hard ground that had
become cracked like old parchment
bearing a fading contract

she called us wordlessly into the growing fray
and we began to clap faster as she slapped
her chest and grunted sharp staccato
ugh-ugh-ughs
that whistled though her last teeth

she coughed and spat and then
plucked a wind string that led back
to her first dance

her knees knocked together
and then she flinched with a

HA!

and then the robin’s egg broke
and the sky burst over us

she took her last bow in the crashing applause
plunged backwards
through the falling curtains
and exhaled fragrant petrichor


The Flat Earth

Reasons ago,
Before “cheese moons” had yet to ripen cheesy,
The sun still bore a grin
Riding clouds with blue linings
Over a flat world in the eternal now

People used to be crayon thin
They had heads like O
And stood naked with legs like /\
Back when sex was just a misspelling
That took two hands to count

~~~

Once upon a time,
Our words became fruitful and multiplied
And gave birth to “genitalia” on a Sunday /’\

By Monday, we already knew the ubiquity of balls -
Telescopes and microscopes
Prove the spins, wobbles, revolutions and spirals...

So, when the Earth was rolled
Into a hard to draw O,
We found it just alright

In surviving the restless onslaught of knowledge
We have lost many good metaphors

With a O, sphere or pale blue dot, we can communicate ancient truths -
But only new lines of code prefer “oblate spheroid”

Some roving dreams only find us
When we sleep and momentarily forget what we know

passion unwise

if life is a journey as is often said
then surely i would be wise to
use recommended roads
find good companions
hope for boredom
nothing unusual
read billboards
drive carefully
pay tolls
strap in
sit
and
never see
what lies behind
the tree lines that blur by
looking more like green fencing
and less like the gate through to my way
but if life is apple pie then it's best while warm
and if it's music, i'll wiggle dance like i'm three

"many are stubborn in pursuit of the path they have chosen. few in pursuit of the goal."

drapetes

Round orbs of fire glowed against the night shadows

Dotting four or five spots along the top of the old castle wall

(were we seen?)

 

We ran shirtless, zig-zagging down narrow and uneven steps

Padding barefoot and scattering grit

And sweating in the blue air

 

 

Someone splashed into the water first and the rest of us followed

 

The low moon hung above the waves was chopped into bright wedges

That we slapped down with hard strokes,

Pulling our way into the world

 

I looked back a few times (I wasn’t the only one who did)

The shouts and clanking behind us were now soft and warm

Like a pillow whisper before a dream

 

The friendly boat glided darkly towards us (just in time)

We flopped onto the wooden bow and smiling teeth and

Callused hands helped us to our feet

 

Some of us went below deck to eat warmth and

Drink yellow-hued company

Cozy under a low ceiling

 

A few of us remained topside a little longer, feeling significant

I still remember the deep sky expanding in our chests

And thrill winds of escape cradle-rocking and swirling over our wet skin

 

I was cold and miserable