Lily Strikes the Hours

i remember the back of you as a lily strikes the hours every stone walks off and the morning sinks in an avalanche of footprints, petals and parables the sudden whitewashed limbs of you As I don't anticipate posting again this week, I would like to take this opportunity to wish you all a very [...]

The bird lies silver.

the morning is a postcard from my window the sky is criss-crossed and the shadow of a bird lies silver a face i know, if the day goes longer it’s because of you God bends rainbows in those eyes behind us, nothing arrives and nothing sails even the moon is someone else's you and i, [...]

The river will sing back.

i. we were copper once these same eyes (neither seen nor touched) now remembered in pictures in the space of a telephone pole in the vanishing, slit-black night awaken in your body and cover you like a bed of rain ii. in these same eyes a man unfolds like a miracle before a streetlight he [...]

Red Springs

among red springs i write a poem, a blank poem it hovers and crashes like the wind a gag poem, a burn poem thrashes, bleeds, loves faces extinction i dig in my pockets for the threat of rain the day presses magnanimously against my forehead poem made of dark soil poem torn from soft womb [...]

Beyond Suffering

I felt compelled to write this post because of a conversation I had yesterday with fellow blogger, Gabriela. In responding to issues I raised in a recent post on religion and personality, she asked me how I felt about the notion that “life is suffering,” especially as it relates to the central meaning I ascribe [...]