Tag Archives: soul
Electrocution
To blame a rodent for this disruption, this return to the primitive, is what I do when singed mystery holds no appeal. What about a snake or hawk? Could be human error—and into its portal the soul just might come … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
Robert De Niro
You came to me in a dream I’m trying to rehabilitate. I didn’t know I needed a raging bull. Can’t confirm that I do. A Peugeot pepper grinder won’t jam my soul the way you might. It’s not the violence … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
Ellipses
. . . do I count them before or after this verbal thievery? If I live in the past, may as well revel in this day come nightfall. Twenty years is a long time to be entranced by a voice. … Continue reading
Filed under Night Poems
Day 3,000
Three thousand days, three thousand nights, hands off bottles, a mouth that forms new words like foreign objects on the tongue. This counting is not done on fingers or in the head. It springs forth mid-tally from a soul she … Continue reading
Filed under Day Poems
Paul & Arthur
Their discussion continually boomeranged back to the dialectic between body and soul—one can wait, the other won’t last. And still as time passed, it was that physical form he would choose. And still I wonder about separation anxiety, about the … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
Before the SUV Almost Ran Me Over
For Sheri A child takes a piano lesson upstairs, strong brew purchased below, the teacher sings. I wish she wouldn’t. Then it stops. Newspaper pages rustle—an old fashioned sound. All the text messages I don’t hear take me from this … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
He Said He Didn’t Believe
in a god, but the soul, yes. I don’t want to write about urns or the contents of any vessel I can’t submerge in a tank of amnesia. Whom I envy is a matter up for a discussion I’m not … Continue reading
Filed under Afternoon Poems
Minnehaha Falls
Abandoned and crowded, you are my calm in a steady roar on a warm Sunday afternoon. Hidden but no secret, you remind me to cease my underestimation of the middle. Oceans are my soul edges—today here lies my heart. Just … Continue reading
Filed under Afternoon Poems
The Ones Who Came from New York
Roadkill in black eyeliner walks through rain-soaked streets. Some drift ghosted back into shaken frames, the brittle bone long since crushed and brushed off. Others resurrect their posture in long black boots to strut tall toward their new hero worship—could … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
Listening to “Sandusky”
I must learn how to describe each tiny movement from solid green to a yellow brushed with red breaking into orange without these blocks of language. I turn up the volume when this instrumental plays—sweet guitar sings vocal lines, the … Continue reading
Filed under Civil Twilight or Dawn Poems
