February 24, 2013

yesterday is ash...

 photo by Edward Rinaldi ©

a blanketing pale

we drag ourselves
each, a piece
of recent history

we are tilling clouds
we are hidden in the vapor
we are pillories
we are siphon keys
we are banquets
we are vanquishes
we are wishing gone awry
we are kind
we are over eager
we are magnesium
we are burn level bright
we are what we search out
we are chasing life too tight
we are too quick
we are too ready
we are declarations of dead
we are pulse echoes of stars
we are dependant
we are the weight of every fallen piece
we are out wading the faith of capitulation
we are souls held together behind a veil
we are exactly what is needed sometimes
we are every sense beyond the five we were born with
we are original sin come back home

air speaks
in tide languages
harmonies, destinies
choices and chances  
tomorrow listens
ever listens
while whoring
for anyone
foolish enough
to give up their today
tomorrow always knows
what grails we seek
tomorrow billows
circling round songs
in the hydrogen,
oxygen and hydrogen

wings and gills
spill the certainty
of books
they are the best
flight attendants

free will and drinks
are more than
mere magazines,
headphones and
enough exhaustion
to sleep for awhile…

vignette 1

rosebud and samara
are drifting through
titular escape

this is the captain speaking
reality is tape looping you
into a series of stop motion films
do you hear any other unseen
offstage direction, asking
if you are all right

vignette 2

please know
wired phones kill
radiation loops nets
plasma is old bone ordinance

keyboards make alliances
nouns, articles and assumptions  
of predilection have formed a union
they jockey for leadership
on inside rails

verbs always want
to be Jesus
they say watch us
go right where
you want us to be

vignette 3

fever and delusion
purposing singularity
like a syringe  
drawing nectar
to poison the past
gate water is skin
guarding the rain
blood is a sentry
eyelashes bend thoughts
peer colors into bombs
plunge brushes into pools
pattern shadows
scatter desire
from candles
to the wall

house lights dim
and you hope
today’s still here
when morning comes
to wake you



  1. This is strong and tight. Vignette 3 is masterful as is the closing stanza. Well done poet ♥

  2. Oh, and your photo.....a miraculous piece of photographic art.