December 21, 2012

poem 460 of a poem a day for 2012

80 foot Paper Boat on the Clyde by George Wyllie 1989

the poem is a paper boat at night

driven between pulp
and paper the poet
leans into strength
and praises how sharp
the wind is
its carve of time
and all its unwind
why humanity’s algorithms
seek chaos more than love
we humans murder
for less than answers
we forage the skies
and spill the trees
our knees
our bent sorrows
we please each other
for hollow regards
we are disharmonious
we turn and weave
we billow curtains of music
certain of our desire
for more in the dark
we can see
we can sense
the deep smell
of how free our eyes
are in wanting light
we are the sum
of all our mirrored allowances

bowsprit Goddess
I want the drive pin
of bread from sown seed
to harvest and stored grain
to bedded comfort and security
I want a rhythm between
pain, glory and abandon
I want to hear the drums
that bind me with silk
to each bed post I writhe
I want each payment  
a tongued stanza and poem
each whisper a tithe
a tell me again
a turn your head
a walking over
to open the window
and set sail into the stars
loosening their moorings

the harbor slip
of each temple body I grace
from life to life waits
for lust to hull direction
in magnetic wakes
in phone booth grasps
in pours of conversation
wearing wreathes of herbs
in each season passed
yes, Goddess beyond
my craned neck
I too still laugh
when the pen presses
down against the paper
furious and splashed
from fog to compass assuredness
every poet is like a captain
of an endless night
dreaming, like I do
of all the ways the sea
can wrap one tight
between destiny and chance
between the nouns, the verbs
and every descriptive lance
between the abacus of kisses
I count along your spine
between letting go of time
to open arming an empty
finally making something mine

EJR © 


  1. Wonderful work. I am amazed by your daily weaving of words. Your commitment to the art of poetry and love is an inspiration.

  2. Eddie you've outdone yourself. I love it!