Another Night

April 12, 2017

The dust of the earth
Settles in the horizons;
Atmospheric window-pane
Becomes unclouded.

The tarnished moon,
Cleans as its edge may seem,
Suffers eons.

It seems the stars
Sing muted melodies,
Forlorn in their age.

Consumed by time,
Separated by time,
This universe.

Constellations
Traced by my tired eyes–
Is there a story
In entropy?

And I wonder
what the ancients saw at night.

Surging and Swelling

January 3, 2013

It swims to the surface of consciousness
Digging itself out of languor, a drowning man
Who has remembered
Who pulls himself to the surface.

Intensity he hasn’t dared:
Lines growing
Out from every object, every fragment
Of story
The lifelong crescendo before they converge
And the scattered red clouds begin to assemble
The atmosphere rises
He must not forget,
Not ‘till death do us part
How angles could cut him,
Live wires that intersect and trace back
Both directions.
They project as he carries
In veins like roots welded to earth
Restless ardor and after
The lines recede,

He must not forget.

Symphony

Rhetoric and Aesthetics

December 8, 2012

Speak less or speak not at all.
How to forget:
Compelling ignorance
In company or isolation?
All within the mind
Aesthetics hardly happen
Minus mindful poets
For the existentialist
And other such stock characters.
Who would bleed for money
Like an accident
To work off inspiration
For appearance’s sake
Except the longing author
Posed main character
Seeming so honest.

Hearts could be free without framework.
Forsake your format.