Tagged: poems

we have heard what drowning

we have heard what drowning
was like, and this was more
like playing hide-and-seek
with our breaths –
when we finally count
to one hundred,
we hope to catch you
taking your routine
nap hidden beneath
the afternoon
sun, our breaths
held so gently
in your beautiful
and wet fists
.
20100314:2253
y

Sunday morning

Sunday morning
pounced
on and started
to disentangle
an hour out of the day
like scooping out the
center pull ball from
a spool of variegated
sunrise. the tip of
Spring winked and
streaked across the
cotton sky, building
ladders from the
day’s rain
.
20100314:1717
y

thirty-four monks were

thirty-four monks were
at your service
yesterday, such professional
chanting, such polished
sutras. memorial banners
flew in from far and wide,
red for your joy, white
for our sorrow, elegant
calligraphy for the man
who lived.

and when the fragrant
wreaths marched in
in lock step, over one
hundred mourners
sniffled in unison,
wiped their burning
eyes in a
synchronized
gesture
within this courtly dance
.
20100313:2327
y

they put you through

they put you through
the incinerator so
fast yesterday
those who were still
standing felt a gusty
sigh
between their fingers
as they reached
out to cleave to that
last goodbye

and you were
that final,
dead knot
at the end of a string
of beads, burnt,
hardened,
securing us
so that we may
never again
come so undone
.
20100313:2147
y

it is almost unbearable

it is almost unbearable
to whisper
that there is no more
signals for dreaming
when half of the access
code is undeniably
corrupted. instead, we
are met with silence
like glass, reminding
us – you haven’t
earned that story

.
20100313:1841
y

these memories rub

these memories rub
against each other
like marbles in a burlap
sack
. you can leave
a hand inside to finger
the cool and seamless
illusion
, but there
is no real comfort
nor grief
until you can bear
to pull one
out, to study
that embedded
Latticino core,
to explore with
intention
without swerving
.
20100312:1434
y

how can we bear it?

how can we bear it?
i don’t know how
we can bear it

death is not so
bad, we were really ever
wounded by life
.
20100311:2244
y

i am just about

i am just about
ready to
compartmentalize
today. yes, it takes
some nerves,
but mostly
an armload of
two-by-fours and
a bag of three-
inch screws
.
if i can accurately
determine the location
and dimensions to ensure
straight and true
walls, i may never
have to feel so much
desolation again
.
20100310:2150
y

these days, i hold

these days, i hold
my breath like it is
really going to make
a difference this
time, like the fog
will lift just
enough so that
i can do math
again – compare
apples to oranges,
your passing to
someone else’s
loss. if i squint, i
can almost make
out something solid
on the other side
of the equation
.
20100309:2120
y

on the twenty-eighth

on the twenty-eighth
day, the moon will have
finally made her way around
this new
world-without-
you, and the sudden
realization will show
on her face,
and the earth will recognize
that suffering look
and all at once
feel
lighter in mass, in this new
world-without-
you

as a consequence,
each day
will be quickened
by one point two
six microseconds,
and they will put it
in their history books –
and there will be less time
to say i love you,
less occasion to hold your
hand, less room
to tie the tips
of our dreams together,
less, still less.

but it is only the twentieth
day – the moon doesn’t
know, so the earth
doesn’t know, and the
days, they drag their
feet because you’re not
here, and
we have been living
with it
for twenty days
.
20100309:2108
y