sometimes poetry rhymes
January 13, 2012

Grave stone

Silence is a thing my tongue knows how to say
while I am practicing my art of the alone –
my heart and shadowed self love every gray

turning path where feet have marked the way
from night to dawn, to sun, past creek and stone.
Their silence is a thing my tongue knows how to say

to dusky forms that sleep through all the May
fogs and whisperings of buried bone.
My heart and shadowed self love every gray

turn of phrase the ground hides from the day –
the murmur of the deep down and unknown
whose silence is a thing my tongue knows how to say.

And all the searching hands that stray
from mine, they noiselessly intone
that my heart and shadowed self love every gray

closing of the eyes and every way
to sleep against the grain of the alone.
My heart and shadowed self love every gray
silence – a thing my tongue knows how to say.

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eight haikus for eighth week
October 30, 2011

To spare

I can’t stop myself.
Killing time, reviving it,
again and again.

Face paint washes off
with soap, with water, with time.
The layers fade fast.

Hands over my ears,
I block out waves, worlds, wonders.
No time for stray sound.

Hands over my eyes:
are they yours?  Could they be mine?
Time will teach me sight.

Hands over my mouth,
time to rest my lips and tongue.
I take silent vows.

I’ll be you next time;
we’ll switch roles in the doorway.
You’ll live in myself.

Double time, quick step,
march with me, run away now,
left right left skip leap!

Time to fly away.
Gather your shoes, pack things up.
Will you wave goodbye?

say the bells
October 10, 2011

this is a place of sacredness.
this is a place that will
estrange you from yourself.
your heart will be some alien moon
that you visit to trample with footprints.
your heart will be some quiet room
in someone else’s house.
this is a place that will
turn you on yourself.
this is a place that will
make you love something
that you will never meet.
you will pass it like a
stranger on the street
and not know it for what it is.
connect to this unknowing.
connect to this loveliness.
it is a sprint towards a brick wall.
it is a leap into deep water.
don’t think twice.
this is the end you are looking for.
this is the end you did not know you wanted.
this is the embracing of every
sigh you have let go.
this is the moment of silence
before the offering.

free verse
May 4, 2011

Enough

I know words for times of crying
I know words fit for embraces
I know words to say when silence is too much
I know words with wrinkled faces
I know words who have swum oceans
I know words whose hands you would not shake
I know words who you would like to kiss
I know words whose music makes men weep

They speak to me in the night
They sound all at once
They drown me in themselves
and I thank them with a silence
that language never knows

I give you words too soft for speaking
I give you words who bruise your arms
I give you words who make you close your eyes
I give you words who leave you hungry
I give you words who know your secrets
I give you words too deep for wonder

Take them
Take them all
Wrap yourself in them to keep you warm
Hold them above you in the rain
and let them carry you when all else fails

Sonnet
February 2, 2011

Tacit

The muted wonder in your eyes tells me
that silence is a happy way to live
when all the world, in sunlight, is set free
and all the noises charge the stage to give
the concert of their lives.  The quiet smile
upon your lips tells me to listen well
because the rests are lost in sound, and while
the notes are good, the rests have things to tell.
I know that you will never stop to talk
and tell me of the silences you’ve heard
but I have watched the way you move and walk
and see that you don’t miss the spoken word.
For syllables are simply sounds, at best,
but you, in silence, shine above the rest.