It never mattered if I fell.
If I failed
When I failed,
I would already have achieved
My foolish goal:
A kiss from Fire,
Briefly mingling my mortal soul
With that eternal temptation.
I never wanted to touch the sun
Only to say I’ve been burned.
And though I am beyond recognition,
Rains of ashes brushed off
By more innocent hearts,
I am peace.
And for one brief moment,
I was fire.
The Steinbeck Swimming Hole
Rims of meshy green
And a murky belly
Cradle me like a lump of sugar lump
In a cup of chamomile.
As my feet stir the waters
Films of algae
To calm me unsuccessfully.
Cannot save me now.
I am desperate for shoes,
“I do not want to climb the fuzzy ladder.”
Drying off among the reeds,
My bravado now morphed into cowardice,
I recall the swimming hole
With refreshing fondness.
I found an Arch Alone
After finding half a cinder block
I look at you arch
And see how I wish I could be.
Lying alone on a hillside
So steep no one will come your way
Except by freak chance.
But you are not begging,
You are content to wait
Strong and purposeful.
Though weathered and forgotten you know
You are a gem
Fashioned by a creator
From the minerals of the earth.
Affected and worn
By unfortunate weather
You are broken
But it’s not a tragedy.
What is gone
Is not missing.
Who you are now
Is all of you.
The Green Leaf Fallen Among the Brown
Abandoned before its time
But dying from the inside out.
Veins stained brown
Warping like its twisted edges.
Patches of jaded green
On a lime background.
Yet still alive.
I crept along the labrynth
In search of Daedalus
But I let my hand lift from the wall
And reach instead for tempting knowledge.
I found myself in a hall of Kings
Shouting at me from their papery prison.
Frances Joseph of Austria,
The entire Hapsburg family
Reached out to me on withered wings,
Tugging at wisps of history
I may have learned in Mr. Olson’s class
(Though perhaps I learned it from Mythbusters
Or some other cheap entertainment).
No matter they are SHOUTING.
“Learn from me Learn from me.”
There is a taller commentary among them—
Spine up, identity hidden.
‘The French Revolution as Seen from the Right’
Is too tall to present itself beside its peers.
The shouting voices turn to mock it, screaming
“See? If you don’t fit in you will be ostracized.
Lying on your back deaf and dumb to the world.
Forgotten and unloved.
Learn from us!
Standing firm to tell our tale!”
The sideways book is plain and unadorned.
Its pages, though forty two years old,
Are glossy and unseen by prying eyes.
It speaks softly to me.
“Be different,” it says,
And though I am drawn to it,
It does not bear scars from living in the world,
As I do.
I retreat from the hall of Kings,
(the infernal whispering!)
Not knowing who to believe
Or who to become.
But the labyrinth master has prepared my flying machine,
And I flee towards the sun
In search of newer scars
And more peaceful dynasties.
Villanelle for Loneliness
All I have to do is say “I’m lonely” to someone who’s never heard it before.
Then the current flows forth in whines
And I have to learn to build up dams once more.
Arabian nights have a thousand and one tales galore
And myself, I have novels in my mind.
But all I want to do is say “I’m lonely” to someone who’s never heard it before.
Babies have a million tears to cry or more
And myself, so do I.
But the world tells me I must build up dams once more.
Hermits have lifetimes of aloneness they asked for
And myself, I am surrounded by people, all mine.
Still I want to say “I’m lonely” to someone who’s already heard it before.
My sweat and allergy-ridden eyes produce enough water from me its rumored
But my mind, itself, wants to make its own rain
Before I have to learn to build up dams once more.
In this world full of people I adore,
All I need to do to gain love divine
Is say “I’m lonely” to someone—regardless if they’ve heard it before,
And learn to build myself up (DAMN!) once more.
After Wordsworth: ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud’
My squandered boney fin may overcrowd,
So I am swimming round and round and round.
Limp and lanky, they all laugh at me---
The ever pitied fool of blueish seas.
I kick and try my best to follow dad,
But always left behind, I make him mad.
To mom I cry: Please spare some love for me!
Never has she swam away so quickly.
And so I drift alone with useless fin
Abandoned and hungry and left without my kin.
I fall asleep and think: why should I wake?
Is there Anyone, who would swim in circles for My sake?
The Kepler Project
Looking at the same sky
I do not look away at flashy distractions
For fear of missing you
Searching searching searching
There is no way I’m alone
You must be out there
And I will find you
Though my patience is tested
Must I stare at unyielding blackness
When comets full of beauty float along the edges of my vision?
Within my reach
Yet unable to be mine?
To so many stars I cast my gaze
But they would only burn me
So I am searching searching
Because I can’t be alone
In so populous a sky
The stars of modern times create the glow
That hide the sea of eyes from man below.
But when one clings to darkness as a friend
One finds that one can truly see again.
The creatures swimming way up in the sky
Smile down as yet unknown allies.
One sees them as they are and wonders thus:
How long have they been waiting, watching us?
A single birth, then fading unto death
Petering out from first to final breath.
I lay down in the field and watch them now.
Feeling big, and yet so small, somehow…
I watch, they watch, we watch each other sleep.
A swirling mass, a view that’s mine to keep.