UNTITLED
shadows form in the upstairs loft like a
wondering William and entered my home
without force as they moved from room-to-room
peeking in or out of my thoughts at will;
"by whose invitation are you here," I shouted
"for whom have you come?"
it's late and time to sleep as without sleep for days I've been;
their thoughts transmit casting shades of grey
glimpse underneath the colors cast...
said he, "not I."
said I, "not you."
said you, "not me."
"so, who's to blame," said I?
your name once was known when you
lurked inside the foyer, pedaling your
dismal point-of-view... a mental merger
bridged the gap of certain uncertainty,
an absolute refrain it was as window shades
pulled tightly down tainted my exterior like
sunglasses dark depressions covered my illusions.
December 17, 1985
UNTITLED
placed in front my notebook lies
its pages hold a private dialogue.
toe-to-heel the words arrange a
fresh approach of life and love and
all things missed be the public true;
inscribed withing on each line cast
my pen writes what I see...
a look inside play peek-a-boo,
you missed my points-of-view;
today, my thoughts a bandit took
I search from high to low,
a mental block... a blank page left
is not my choice to do this day.
December 16, 1985
UNTITLED
when the thoughts and random ideas the
pen and ink sketches, the doodling ends,
words and phrases rearranged on
lined paper convey a cause and effect;
inward winds blow without hesitation
crying in unison across common fields
and the changing seasons are our dependence
and strengthen our common reluctance;
we mourn collectively and separately
and outwardly accept life's interventions
and the purpose always seems to continue;
the scars of our survival perhaps briefly
bend our spirit towards each other and
towards our shared and familiar destinations.
December 10, 1985
down in a moss-lined hollow we lie, a rain
forest where giant ferns cover our nakedness;
nature's noise interrupts us disturbing its isolation and
like Polo, we discover each other's vibrant paleness;
around us vines hang like menacing webs
and creatures prowl like tiny soldiers;
with reality removed, a natural serenity heals
our cracked exterior and we, in sheltered silence
face our partner's renewing vows and spectators
perch on branches, heads twitching, bobbing
shrills down towards us, flapping us away...
time out... time in... or when we don't know.
December 9, 1985
UNTITLED
sandman enter my dream and take me,
retrieve me from an inner consciousness
and let me sleep a little if you will...
I walk and talk, my eyes never close
never relax, never allows me not to see,
I forfeit truth for deceit for the inner
focus of my collapsing illusions;
to possess and be possessed,
to expand reality in a narrow darkroom,
a neutral barrier... a fixed corridor;
a uniquely divided balcony from which
we can witness the calm exterior of
passing time if the sandman enters.
December 4, 1985
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