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no subject
Date: 2018-10-09 12:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:03 am (UTC)And now that he's here, do you let him
stand in the house like a newborn god,
carrying the empty weight of sky
in his eyes, saying nothing is irreversible.
no subject
Date: 2018-10-09 12:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:04 am (UTC)He follows the bones of animals
laid out as beacons by caravans
carrying spice and indigo.
And when the dust storms rise,
wrapping their latticework of mirage
around the tamarisks,
he dreams of terrible things:
no subject
Date: 2018-10-09 01:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:05 am (UTC)From What the Sea Brought In
Three dying fish, four dead grandparents.
Slippers of every stripe: rubber, leather,
Rexine, felt. Rope, mollusc, baleen, foam.
Two ghost children foraging their way
home.
no subject
Date: 2018-10-09 11:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:07 am (UTC)We forget how unforgivably those old poems
led us to believe that men were mountains,
that the beautiful could never remain
heartbroken, that when the rains arrive
we should be delighted to be taken
in drowning, in devotion.
no subject
Date: 2018-10-09 12:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:09 am (UTC)But it is nothing—
this song of our communion
Less than what the animals share
as they walk to the riverbank in slow repair
stopping to lick each other's wounds
no subject
Date: 2018-10-09 01:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-10-09 03:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2018-10-09 08:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:11 am (UTC)From Portrait of the Poet as a Reclining God
Grow serious as we sweep towards
the eyes. Focus inwards, Avalokiteshvara.
Cradle that palm against your ear as if
it were a telephone. Whisper into the velvet
air: Hello heart! You still there?
no subject
Date: 2018-12-05 05:34 pm (UTC)I am down for this again! One of my favorite yearly writing challenges.
no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:11 am (UTC)From Love Poem Disguised as an Elegy
There'll be a time you grow
so young you won't know me,
and this is terrifying
because I still have things to ask
about the body and dying
and where memories go to live.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-11 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:12 am (UTC)They will talk as they have been talking
for centuries, about holding the throat of life,
till all the sunsets and lies are choked out,
till only the bones of truth remain.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-11 05:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:12 am (UTC)I'll be stalking the fields of concrete and ash,
the days pushing me from street
to street, leading me elsewhere—
to houses without ceiling fans
where daughters disappear and the walls weep.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-11 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:13 am (UTC)From When I Was Still a Poet
Now that I
have given up,
afternoons dry
as raisin skins scrub
by. Thieves approach.
Dogs bark. Love springs
from dirt like carrots.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-11 09:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:13 am (UTC)The birds flew from sycamore
to sycamore like tapestry,
flood. And every epiphany
that has since arrived
has yielded only in breath,
tempestuous, forbidden breath.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-11 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:14 am (UTC)But when the light hits us from behind
the granite cliffs, all I can muster is to lie with you
on the monastery floor, guide your fingers to the door-
way of my weary heart, so you can feel it too—
the ocean that travels with me; how it gathers and breaks,
gathers and breaks; like love, how it stills, then parts.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-12 03:04 pm (UTC)first time and excited!!
no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:14 am (UTC)From Girls Are Coming Out of the Woods
They've crawled
their way out from behind curtains
of childhood, the silver-pink weight
of their bodies pushing against water,
against the sad, feathered tarnish
of remembrance.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-15 03:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:14 am (UTC)only yesterday, when I rescued a northern shoveler
from crows on the beach, his broken wing
squished against the crockery of my ribs,
only after setting him down at the edge
Of a canal, where he sank in to the long patient
task of dying, that I realized what I'd wanted
most was to be held by someone determined
to save me
no subject
Date: 2018-12-15 05:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:15 am (UTC)I'll simply walk
into the dark
where every trunk
and branch and leaf
looks like you, feels like you,
speaks like you: deep-chested
yellow-limbed
rain-cloud blue.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-15 06:15 pm (UTC)wonderful idea!
no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:16 am (UTC)From Falling, 1968
My mother, moving across the air
of all of this, must have known how falling
in love is something like dying after all.
Something the seas and sky evade
to survive the centuries.
Sign me up
Date: 2018-12-17 02:38 am (UTC)Re: Sign me up
Date: 2019-01-01 06:17 am (UTC)So, of course, hush, of course, wonder.
And when they guide you up the steps
to gaze into a field of mirrors,
There can be no doubt that what you're looking at
is life, and when you turn back into the dark,
it's either the future of the past,
But most probably it's death.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-20 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:18 am (UTC)Once, at the desert's edge,
a circle of pilgrims spoke of wonder—
Their lives dark with mud and hoes.
They didn't know you could make perfume
from rain, that human blood was more fattening
than beer.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-22 04:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:18 am (UTC)It's moments like this
I hear you on Pilgrims' Stairs
Pinning the day's despair
to the underbelly of dusk
By nightfall
When the mosquitoes have retreated
and you've parted the skies
for cathedral spires to rise
no subject
Date: 2018-12-29 01:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:20 am (UTC)Because if it weren't for this mouse-spiced
air, this particular desire to be anywhere
but here, how else to turn the howl
into song?How else to trawl through
tundra and beach, excavating vast,
treeless stretches for clumps of happiness?
no subject
Date: 2018-12-31 10:30 pm (UTC)Hoping to actually finish this year!
no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:20 am (UTC)From Ode to the Walking Woman
Will you walk down
to the water's edge,
immerse your feet
till you can feel them
dancing underneath?
no subject
Date: 2018-12-31 11:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:21 am (UTC)After days of silence, we have arrived.
We will stretch our bodies along beds
that fold into walls, and dream our way back
To a city where dust storms into the house
with flies. Later, I will leave you, knotted
in a ball of sleep.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-31 11:20 pm (UTC)I'll give it a go!
no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:21 am (UTC)There must be a word for a person
who longs to run into the eye
of a storm, a word for every tree
that lies slaughtered on the streets
after a cyclone.
no subject
Date: 2018-12-31 11:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-01 06:21 am (UTC)Husband tries to still the advancing
armies of the past by stuffing his ears with desicated
mango husks. And brother? Brother is most lackadaisical of all.
He opens the door. Takes death's umbrella. Taps it this way and that. Sings.