Wide-eyed, awestruck. Three spikes for defense of thick hide.
Museum display frozen in time
Haunting memory now error
What was not, was once and is no more
Where did you go?
Do you stand with Zeus, Thor or Pluto?
Once devoted, now demoted to myth or footnote
An asterisk in a textbook
Attributed to folly, misinterpretation or poor scholarship
The dreams do not fade, memory persists
Are you simply our creation to destroy?
Or, by creating do we give you life
And with it, the burden of death?
A yoke around your neck
And a seat by Lamarck or Ptolemy at the feast.
Avoiding Nietzsche's gaze while polishing your horns?
Bytes of Grass
An online journal for the poems that seem to write themselves during my day.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
In the Grease
For Melanie
With graceful turns at languid pace the moon
revolves, and rabbit plays his game of chase.
While far below in silent spin the race
of Earth may stand transfixed in awe of tune
celestial. Yet through the night are strewn,
unseen by nearly every upturned face,
the tell-tale signs of Clotho's wondrous grace:
of time aligned in time and none too soon.
This yarn, so finely plied of silken thread,
envelops all. And yet we cannot see
nor hear, nor taste nor touch and feel its hand,
'til neath the ground we lastly make our bed.
What staple length allows a draft so free
when moons as whorls may spin at your command?
With graceful turns at languid pace the moon
revolves, and rabbit plays his game of chase.
While far below in silent spin the race
of Earth may stand transfixed in awe of tune
celestial. Yet through the night are strewn,
unseen by nearly every upturned face,
the tell-tale signs of Clotho's wondrous grace:
of time aligned in time and none too soon.
This yarn, so finely plied of silken thread,
envelops all. And yet we cannot see
nor hear, nor taste nor touch and feel its hand,
'til neath the ground we lastly make our bed.
What staple length allows a draft so free
when moons as whorls may spin at your command?
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Epitaph for a Lady
A butterfly stretches newly minted wings
exotic and remote,
and hurricanes ensue.
While closer to home a tenant longs for ownership,
a salesman dreams of financial reward,
And a marquee goes dark.
All things connected.
All lines intersect.
All interests converge into one vibrating whole.
exotic and remote,
and hurricanes ensue.
While closer to home a tenant longs for ownership,
a salesman dreams of financial reward,
And a marquee goes dark.
All things connected.
All lines intersect.
All interests converge into one vibrating whole.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Aspirational Shoes
Fifteen paces ahead
Red soles flashing with every step
She walks
Clumsily
Carefully
Avoiding potholes and grates
Toes pointing to cardinal directions
Unsteady
Ungainly
Wanting to be something she is not
yet.
Red soles flashing with every step
She walks
Clumsily
Carefully
Avoiding potholes and grates
Toes pointing to cardinal directions
Unsteady
Ungainly
Wanting to be something she is not
yet.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Messenger
I wish I were a bicycle messenger.
Oblivious to danger.
Pedaling furiously through town.
Navigating upstream between lanes of oncoming cars.
Then darting onto the sidewalk -
a right angle impulse -
to stop at a cafe
and enjoy an espresso with my bike messenger friends.
What would we talk about?
What issues would we debate?
Who among us is fastest?
A friend's most recent tattoo?
Or, just perhaps, our waning immortality?
Oblivious to danger.
Pedaling furiously through town.
Navigating upstream between lanes of oncoming cars.
Then darting onto the sidewalk -
a right angle impulse -
to stop at a cafe
and enjoy an espresso with my bike messenger friends.
What would we talk about?
What issues would we debate?
Who among us is fastest?
A friend's most recent tattoo?
Or, just perhaps, our waning immortality?
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