Monday, January 9, 2017


I hold the pigment of my skin
in a cup bowled
and full
the rain subsides
      and I am clean
there is room for words
and wallpapered
       windows of drought

(seeking) see-ing

     (the art of not giving a shit)
breathe once
breathe once
sip and sound the rounded cup
I am full
     the rain ends
I hold my skin
all color absent
   and I breathe once
         abstaining from all graces
     once more in faith I write
on the walls standing
beside me
I am clean
   and the sound of rain
2017 (copyrighted)

Friday, December 23, 2016

cities (i.) (ii.)


we crawl between paper and railing
secrets of length
ripped open by rain          acid of tears
falling to flesh
                   falling to rain

rain swallowed  
        gutter to     drain

lights of the city
           vibrant and new
place object to window
           lined in grace

dances of freedom
            exquisite spacing of step
       passing and pausing
beauty well spent

the keeping of secrets
contained in the wine
merlot of the moment
        brings warmth to the soul

as flesh melts into dark
     in the corner of promise and pain

between paper and rail
between paper and rain


not New York

used jewels hang from
        aged pubic hair
elevators reveal more than
       mirrored caviar and quantity

points accumulate

street corner drugs
offer aspirin and condom
         street lights
offer repentance and reprieve

this is not New York
this is not Paris or London
this our daily bread gone underground

money and merchants
       change hands in the black

   no free pass to heaven
its points we lack

2016 (copyrighted)

Thursday, December 22, 2016

other than white

in the ginger
of morning
i catch snow on my tongue
taste the stillness
of light at the edge of a wood

as winter takes breath
to cradle life in a blanket held white
held white and wide
in the course of my sight

it, natures communion
takes precedent over warm and constant
and that which i receive
lips can hardly reveal

not in word
not in tongue
spoken or scribed, nor

in earthly creation
other than white

2016 (copyrighted)

photo by Karen Callan

Friday, December 9, 2016

so they came and i could but leave in haste

So they came and I could but leave in haste
their arms could not hold me in warmth or in love
or would I care it so
for flight is stronger to a bird then caring, as
caution always falls upon a restless soul
So if I marry, No I will not, for a vow
not taken solemn is not
So let them come and
let them show a weaker self in all their sighing; and let them
drink and speak of spring and vows falling
like kissed petals from a branch
but I can not care nor would I stay past autumn
not for warmth or love
for winter begs me home

2016 (copyrighted)