Thursday, June 30, 2011


time dilates
so funny in
your eyes,
spirals turned
to halos, and
spirals form
from fragments of glass.
sweet fingers´curves
against the glass
press to the core,
reach back,
and are in again,
churning and turning
in a whole revolution
a second.
It´s an ache and a dolor
so dipped in amor
the color is one and the same,
the odds are all against
but tip on the blink of an echo,
relate to one
and one in a fraction
equal to the sum.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Shivering halo

a touch softened
by water.
passing the memory of
softening eyes
across the back
of my mind,
back again.
I´m sinking here,
into wet sand on a
sinking sandbar
and we´re dancing to
enjoy the dive.
Sweetened by the press
of these fingers i´ve given
away to the sun,
allured by the empty sky
i´ve given up to press
my face deeply
into fat, fresh green leaves-
storied intoxications
and moments
I´ll tiptoe softly to every door. 

Tuesday, June 28, 2011


i write your names...
love is a cylinder
then a spiral.
it´s a mist i love
a block of rock.
The right way is to balance
it all on whatever 

Sunday, June 26, 2011

Easy time

The obelisk,
among the trees that
turned into a desert.
When the sun comes
over its light
becomes music in
the monument’s ears,
trumpets and flutes
play a dream he
will remember when the
sun sets;
when the vision is gone.
Through the night he
will remember the
harmony of the garden,
and sing to it
over and over.

Saturday, June 25, 2011


June nocturne
goes like this:

Warm indigo night
melts between us.

Your eyes are
sending warnings
to the edge of
the spoken world.

You happened in
me so briefly
and now I
feel nostalgic
for now-
with the darkness
in between us,
your heart happening
outside of me already.

The lioness
who lies beneath
the ginkgo tree-
whose eyes
are edged with
a warning:
a darkness
that sort of
tangoes between us,
and then lapses. 

Friday, June 24, 2011


Would you let salt water slip under your door?
Run your fingers through its currents-
Resist the impulse to fly out the window-
And wear its warm bath until you’re all
Coral and mermaid?

If, when the riverlight swims across your porch,
You stretch out your legs on your swing
And invite him in, will you then let moonbeams
Spill from every corner of the skies
Of your jaguar eyes?

Where do wild hearts tilt?  Beneath the stars, with
Wind rustling all the leaves at once
In her refuge edged by vetiver grass and
Crowned with the boughs of a honeytree
that grew from a laugh.

Summer brings a tempest of dreams to set the
Pinwheel leaves of your soul spinning.
But unmade moments might still undo each night
Into fernlike shapes, or even turn
Into an ocean.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

things that open and close

it feels like
stolen time
lines learned secretly
behind invisible maps.
And it feels like we’re
two notes playing separately,
but in time,
sometimes it feels like that
and then the notes close.
and open.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

sum te

out over waves
for miles
the starched sky
collapses and
collapses and blossoms
the leaves its
fingers caress
with touch.
And to the soul
of this garden reach
both their hands,
joining the living
things one to another.

Saturday, June 18, 2011


Accepting extraordinarily
and beauty into
our life.
The sun her hands
the infinite
and treeless, sandy
in meter lulls.
I for one am
slave to this desire-
I am one redoubling
The long spread and
wash from grey to blue,
life becomesky,
hangs like a
sheet of foil
in the evening breathing.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Spring Tunes the Sky

You stand in the morning light,
all the oceanic aromas rumbling
in your bright heart,
the hush of summer
on your breath.

The tides bring their memories by-
ones that I knew once,
when time passed beneath the
dense ferns and darkness swept
the grass.

Put these seashells
around your eyes-
to remember when the sea
turned alive by;
to guard the darkness inside with.

Your dance begins in tiny instants
of infinity, from beyond
the great river, where I always
stop by-
just to hear the light speak to me.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

nearly night

storied buildings
all spelled out in
their nighttime of city
meet the running road.

the maps of our hearts
run with it,
into the night and
the trees and the dark hills.

it's always going forward,
wherever we're going...

Wednesday, June 15, 2011


Wind, when
you come you
become the
voice of leaves.
Your rests
give more weight
to your words,
which are the dreaming
of all the trees
you speak with.

Your hands
move easy
among nighttime,
the stars and
the ground conspire
there, softly
gardening by moonlight.

In the open
grass trembling,
you’re fast to find
the woods again-
the tongue and teeth
of your thoughts
form sentences
that bell and sound
between dark branches;
they tell the story of
the earth and sky,
waiting for the sun
to come and quiet them.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

"to too long ago"

Long walks
slip away into songs
stolen nights

(dark effervescent glow
fades to unmapped interior,
to those solitary wolveseyes)

intoxicate me-
as if,
starting out a storytime of
life and death, etched in
perilous heartbeats as if
our memory had formed together-
in rhythms spoken too long ago,
singing made long answers to even longer ago,
to when rocks dripped
in clouded formations and
formless mountaintops danced alongside


Monday, June 13, 2011

a storm that's always threatening,

among the orbits of their eyes                                                                                    
stolen dreams and wrinkled stories                                                                              
line the waves and valleys                                                                                           
they cross.  and their words were                                                                                   
echoes of things they'd never seen,                                                                                  
assembled fragments of a world made                                                                               
from magazines, a collage they put together                                                                        
telepathically, in plain site of alligators                                                                            
and moths beating their tails and wings                                                                               
against the paper walls that keep them                                                                                 
bathed in tepid light from day to night
and unseen.
                  just wild mazes,                                                                 
                      to be lost in-    
a mirror's stretched above the din of the ocean's                                                                 
crash, and catches the light in droves about its silver-rimmed glance...                                  
you seem to gleam yourself in half-spoken sentences,                                                       
in instants of selflessness,                                                                                            
a sandy beach scattered with years,                                                                             
and around the ocean lies your deep breath,                                                                       
one after another, sign of life, the maker your hands                                                     
the shape of the fingers trees resembles, it
speaks, with all the force of tides, with
the weight of skies and sky-scattered stars and
wavy lines.  It rides
a stiff breeze,
til the oceans end,
and time descends the plateaux of thoughtful
rhymes.  My heart skips
a beat.  It's a forest of glimmers,
of half-eaten leaves and the light they've loved,
of the lingering scent of fur brushed by a treetrunk's
stolid watch through the dampness of the morning.        


Sunday, June 12, 2011


do you dream in rain?
or in flowerformed colors
made to shake the rain from
the pivoting of soaked palm fronds
dancing in the wind?
is it spoken with forgotten tongues?
nuzzled or danced or sung?
hardly begun,
cryptic and
and wept through canyons
that transform you into
something limitless...?
or never over?  aching unending that
crisscrosses your body,
until our ancient hands envelope the globe,
making a sail with curling fingers.

dovetail love into figures of infinity,
candlelight and soda straws strewn
in the wide-open country,
an offering to hawks, to insects and air

Saturday, June 11, 2011


Five petalled creature
in the sun,
six leaves turning
in the wind,
effortless teeming oceans'
currents connect
and web out,
careening softly
and senuously against
the sandy ocean bottom,
the wild peaks of
icy mountains;
the nodding bliss
of wild marshes,
the bottom of
the sandy desert.
Agaist each other,
the ocean fanning,
the tree blooming-
the world is
making love to itself