Oh I have never loved the razor's kiss,
But a sharper childhood's crazed example
Wrote its lessons on adolescent wrists.
I'm what's left after the flames are trampled.
Is it rebirth for those who never lived?
Seemingly this ultimate weapon's curse
Is its dual-edged blade; between the ribs
The killing intellect is reimbursed.
Yet the fire of the mind ever rises.
Ashborn children may have been their own prey,
After so many daily demises
Perhaps falseness's dross was burned away.
I never loved the wounds of my feeling;
I still hate cuts, but I love the healing.
Tag: growth
The little gift I have of tongue
The little gift I have of tongue,
And a bit of literacy,
Pantomiming a sweet machine
That never more farfetched were flung.
The honey that is my body,
In the monument skull made full
For one esoteric instant,
Is the blood spilling from the bull.
Words have lost their magic power,
So it seems, when charged by passion.
How to fuse incantations, touch,
And identity? It's too much!
Song for George
My friend, it's cliché
but you know what I'll say,
I hope to see you again.
In time, you'll return
on a day you discern;
I hope it's me that you find.
My dear, I'll hold fast
to a love which outlasts
Eternity and a year.
When you fly away
doesn't mean you won't stay,
It's only a day's goodbye.
The spread of your wings
is the nature of things,
A growth by adventure fed.
Be safe and live free;
I'll continue to be
Your friend, though your absence chafes.
Go roam where you will
and I'll visit until
Love reunites us at home.
I find it hard to believe
I find it hard to believe that it's me,
Progressing with empty steps in this way;
And yet when it changes, no one can say.
Be it family or society,
My costs are for someone else to defray.
To be sure I'm the lesser moiety
Progressing with empty steps in this way.
A mystery moment I hope to see:
Elusive success of my own to pay,
And an opportunity that I may.
I find it hard to believe that it's me,
Progressing with empty steps in this way;
And yet when it changes, no one can say.
My sheer house
My sheer house is miniscule,
But here and now a lyric
Could take sublime molecules,
Make time's victory pyrrhic.
I give you this offering:
How I lived, a wish afloat
On songs of hope, softening
The wrongs which our scopes promote.
My dream to be feminine,
To see myself seem pretty,
A princess with eminence;
Pinced instead: what a pity.
I grew into depression,
My true self refused, repressed.
Desire became obsession;
To my shame I was possessed.
My own eating disorder
Bound up a need for starving,
Alcohol, and discordant,
Maladaptive wrist carving.
Death was posing constantly,
Its threshold closing around
Each moment of wantingly
Reaching, alone and unfound.
But I'm alive, shockingly,
I survived at rock bottom.
He found me worth pocketing,
Crowned my cursed head with autumn.
Before I was untethered,
Poured my puzzled blood weeping;
When he brought us together,
He bent thoughts that lie creeping.
A half-dozen medicines,
A path that wasn't direct
At last mounted reticence,
Perhaps found something correct.
We shacked up through manifold
Setbacks, yet we grew happy
Trusting plucky animals,
Our muscovy ducks' flapping.
There's still the same confusion.
Will you blame that I re-slept
My years' yearning delusion?
I've merely learned to accept.
I've lost and gained employment,
I've tossed the rains from islands
To focus love's enjoyment;
A voice spoke above violence.
I'll never be omniscient;
So I must weather demons,
Though I fear I'm deficient.
I know my sincere reasons.
I'm not very capable
But caught a merry lifeline.
If even I'm shapeable,
Could seasons prime our lifetimes?
To mention that important
Question: what matters really?
Is self-knowledge supporting
My shelf of solid feeling?
Am I truly self-aware,
Can I duly note defects
In myself that interfere
With my health's tender reflex?
Have I built my quality
Which sadness wilted above;
Deeply lies my policy:
To keep those I call beloved.
Peace
Peace is knowing unease Recedes; and woe, once the wave Which swallowed old continents, Shall fall for the bold and brave. Strength is trust in loving's Length, justice, and equipoise. Ridges rise as miracles Bridge islands and wrecks rejoice. Virtue waits in patience, Hurts abate and sorrows cease. Souls of mercy float, finding Mirth extolled by prophet peace.
Our Best Friends




Percy and Franklin,
I still think about you two.
May we meet again.

Talk to me Norman.
Any whisper you breathe
Makes my soul lighter.

Oh my darling George,
I'll never forget seeing
You in the preserve
Next door, (far from home to me.)
You came back with love's ascent.

Steve, what a blessing
To see you running to me
With warmest welcome.

Little striped ducky,
What is your name I wonder,
Our friend Zebra's child.

Zebra moved along
With a few of her ducklings;
We'll always love her.

Wonderful Helmet,
You most amazing mother,
Your little white head
Reminds me of the Mama's
Before who mothered our friends.

Edgar's soft whirring,
A duckling nipping the air:
Little things they do
That remind me of Granite.
How he loved his blueberries.

Cities/Languages
Cities built upon
Cities, and languages built
Upon languages.
In our world gone mad
In our world gone mad,
We have the thief in the night
Out in broad daylight
While we buy and sell, stealing
Away from calm and from sense.
There once was a man
From an island, it doesn't
Matter which. This tongue
Is the sole silhouette Time
Bequeathed to him for his trip.
The name of the place
From twenty-five years ago;
A memory's lane;
Psychoactivity's seeds
Referenced throughout childhood, why?
Blue jay, hi! Blue jay, ho!
Blue jay, hi! Blue jay, ho!
Springing from each angled bough,
Fluttering aground,
Pulled aloft like a puppet
Back up to the browned
Bower barely above it.
Blue jay high, blue jay low!
One goodbye, one hello;
Wondering time, watch its tow.
See it standing still?
On the first of diversions
Seasons start to spill;
Lead our lovely excursions
Blue jay, hi! Blue jay, ho!
Blue I sigh, feeling slow
And inert. How to go
Where I want to be,
(And where is that exactly?)
More than merely me,
Maybe. It depends on who's asking—
Then at once: blue jay, yo!
Every day marvels show
Beauty's spark flash in both
Beings grandiose
And the commonplace creatures;
Perhaps I learn the most
From these humblest of teachers.
I get high, I lay low.
You, my love, you are so
Blue, but know that although
Sometimes we must lay
In the valleys and doldrums,
Always comes the day.
Who knows when we'll behold some
Blue jay high, blue jay low!