Saturday, December 22, 2007

poems are meant to be sad

poems are meant to be sad
for marj

melancholy is the language
of poetry
some human emotions
are selfish
they outsurface
as others are trying
to emerge
as in the growth
of a young plant
under a tall one.

the placid water
over rocks
against the roaring thunder
of the gods.
the seed remains
hidden until
the rain for a long time
held by the clouds
can endure no more.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

the plant

the plant
for rob

(i said)
it is special because
you gave it a nice place
at your window where
you can always look out
in the street;
passers-by hurrying down
to the baker’s for morning bread
and cabs lazying in wait
for early passengers.

( i said)
it is special because
you never forget it
a single day
without water as
you never do with your caffeine
or with your eight glasses a day.

(but it said)
it wishes (i hope you can hear it say)
that sometimes you wouldn't
see it when you
look out of your window
or that you would miss it without water.

so you would notice it growing…
for you.




Saturday, December 1, 2007

poem 7273

Poem 7273
To Ethan whose eyes have spoken so much

love

in that vast white ocean
those blue glittering in the sun
that looked everywhere
(you thought)
saw nothing
save the white-covered plane.



in the bottom
more vast than the surface
lies my desire
lurking in the water.



you closed your eyes
and no more glittering snow
those eyes that looked everywhere
had found silence
under, undisturbed
lain in wait.




Monday, November 26, 2007

poem 7272

poem 7272


to Ethan whose eyes have spoken so much

my heart seeks to understand.

i’ve never been to your soul
whose windows are frigid when they look
winter wind freezes them and
i melt, draining the clues down
leaving nothing, but shadows of grey.

i’ve never been to your thoughts
whose doors are red when they speak
words fumble and mumble and
i blur, draining the clues down
leaving nothing, but shadows of grey.

i’ve never been to your heart
whose streams are sound when they flow
tears well up and go
i wane, draining the clues down
leaving nothing, but shadows of grey.

i’ve never been to any of these
the solitude that your eyes speak of
the depth that your thoughts gauge
and the solace that your heart grants.

my heart seeks to understand.