Sunday, January 22, 2017

Sweet Murmur





Sweet Murmur





Your voice is just the murmur
of the wide windy moon
after the storm passes over,
love is just sweet murmur

grinding grit and gravel
as the tide rolls in too soon,
salt over sweet murmur
of the far windy moon







~January 2017

for Brendan at   real toads









Image: Moonrise, Beaumaris © Clarice Beckett

Friday, January 20, 2017

Spider Ascendant




Spider Ascendant







The Fat God preens
on his eight stick legs;
no one tells
how he got so fat.
No one cares
who he ate last night.
 
In his ceaseless spin,
his angry twit,
no one observes the
arachnid eye
fixed cold below on his
appetite's end.

Five hundred mirrors
twice turn back light
on his blinded flies
their wings bloody buzzing
through broken glass
their deathwish devotions.


~January 20, 2017












Image: Ghost Spider © Ceecore, deviantart   fair use


Saturday, January 14, 2017

Song From The Underworld



Song From The Underworld




Below the mountain
still 
you were there.
Warm in the dark
my breasts flew out to you
like two ringed doves,
your lips were snowmelt
fading on poppy-fields
white to red, winter to
spring--
springing
soft soft
on my back,
your hands that saved the world
for last,
below the mountain
where the dead abide.



~January 2017












a belated 55 for the new old year..









Photo: © Aurore de Sousa  Fair use via internet

Thursday, January 5, 2017

New Year's Fool









New Year's Fool

I am from yesterday,
but not.

My veil is the cloud of a dozen
dead species of moth,
my too-short skirts some dismal fabric
that only comes in black,
like bombazine.

My face is from nowhere,
but not.

My hands namaste,
my hair is a madwoman's coif,
a harlot's passport.
I stole my maryjanes from
a Harajuku girl

stoned in the Mission,
I have no eyes

but 
you feel me watching you.
Some say I'm a fool,
but 
I'm not.

 ~January 2017




 posted for     real toads

a very impromptu write for









Image: artist unknown, fair use.