Saturday, June 30, 2012

The Cat

The cat came to my front door
And asked her way in
Knowing I would not open
But she would try again
She asked at my backdoor
I would not let her in
The rats played in the attic
Why would she try again

Thursday, June 21, 2012

the right hand of sleep

the right hand of sleep strokes my chest
why is it so difficult to speak
when distance is rare
i hold my breath lest it is heard
in between every finger that is truly there

can we only speak of dreams
into the silence of a mountain lake
swallowing the strain of climbing to that peak
and all regret of leaving it
when we plunge our heads into cool water
strip off every shell and dive
into the relieve of a slightly bended morning

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

I am too small

Your vessel is flooded. 
There is no island. 
But you swim. 
Though you can’t swim. 
Water carries you. 
Because it must. 
I am too small. 
Can only
Empty lakes with cups. 
But I can keep trying. 
So long as you swim.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

red ambers

love is to dare
a share in two chambers
glare of red ambers
until despair