I Know for a Reason

One day this force will fail,
and my heart will know
how not to pound.
One day I will run away;
one day I will slow down.

This that throbs within me,
will fade into silence -
one day the force will fail
and I won't be around.

All that I didn't say -
these words that meant life -
one day in death they will
astound.

I may be drifting to the dark
letters no one reads -
I know for a reason
this treasure will be found.

Snow

We give in.

The sun is only a shard of life -
and there are cracks, too many -
we're eaten dry, our longings
slipping beneath our feet
as we walk to the top -
a foggy top -
the climax of our pains.

There, where it snows,
the breath is a fume
that billows from the soul
until it is lost
to death.

As the shard falls flat,
I hail the white shroud -
between my short breaths
and the windmills of snow,
you are lost and how!

Wanting to let go
of my icy hand -
wanting to clutch
the billowing fume -
wanting to unearth the fire
that would undo doom.

You, with your feather flight,
and I, with my shackled heart,
give in to the white -
give in
too soon?

Love, a Little Curl

I kindle the pen, a cigarette -
I smoke a syringe.
Perhaps, they're right in saying
that I'm doing it wrong.

Smoke-song, I break
into little curls
as I poem the homeless love
for him.

He arches in my thoughts -
a pretty, garden bridge;
I coil, a snake,
guarding this memory.

Long time, he chimed
to the wind in my hair.

Long time, he fluttered
his lying lashes.

Long time, I held
onto his cruel, cruel ways.

Long time, he denied
me a divorce.

Her, Wailing

Haven't heard from you, love -
been on this page for long -
descend -

a first cackle for the door -
your touch again upon the core -
blend -

lend to me a whole new self -
been on this page for so long!

gorges deep - the dark mouth -
accursed dawns; dreamless pits -

nibble away all my hours -
if only I could watch you sleep ...

Loss

I'm so full -
so full of your emptiness.

Hollows,
all hollows -
you swallow
the air I breathe.

Tear, shriek -
you're the peak
I lose my echoes to.

You who are this fog -
how I do see you?

You're blinding my eyes
and I?

I term this loss,
love.

Night After Night

Night after
night after
night after
night -

I pour myself a dying street light.

Night after
night after
night after
night -

he finds me by death; black against white.

Night after
night after
night after
night -

there's the moan of the moon -

there's night, there's night.

His shadow has the heart
to crawl out of sight -
love lingers on the saddle,
dirt like.

The Burning Poem

I

I wait for Time to walk away. I conjure a gun and rest my fingers upon it. This is how I sleep. This is how I sleep.

II

Rub, rub on my chest the truth that I needed from you. Tonight, any ointment is hope.

III

There's a ceiling fan I've jumped into - a rain of soundlessness. Life, not suicide.

IV

I dream of burnt poems and of running through the thick, black forest of Night.
Will you hold my hand, sweetheart? Will you touch a burning poem?