metonymy4u

have you ever nodded yourself to sleep
have you ever cried your whole day through
have you ever broken every thought
every dream every feeling every sunlit stare
upon the breathless ocean of grief

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i bring a jewel on our hike to the mountains
i give it to you after dinner
we celebrate like two swans
in the morning i wake alone and tend to the fire
to build it up for my own breakfast
the sparks echo over the mountain range that
has stood here much longer than our children ever would have
you are gone and i understand very well now
that everything in this young world
contains its own opposite

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our intellectual conflicts seems to generate so much emotional conflict, aggression, hatred and physical violence that i fear humans won’t survive another 100 years on this planet. if we don’t learn to check the facts how can we ever learn to check our violence?

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what words trained me slowly to your smile
held me a moment, brought me back
to an unbreakable note of love of touch:
your fingers, your lips, your wandering hip,
all that i loved in one single love.

will i walk all the days of my life in grief
will i laugh

will atoms of time
pull away

and find your infinite eyes at last.

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what was:

words and sand
coast and ocean
a brazen brine smell
a licking wood fire
raw and open.

what you brought:

wave prayer and
a rock,
shell layer
upon layer
of saved up things.

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i dreamt a honeymoon of stars
beneath a convulsive sky that
we took to be our
guardian of eternal strife—
it failed us and our love grew
to a tune of overcoming, a song
of the impossible.

where is my love in the night?

where does she rest?
am i the last of my breed?
am i undone?

deaf ones i ask don’t
you know the fiddler of your morning feet,
your trumpet warrior, your

blazer of morning light?

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standing up to
follow my
self across some half
frozen lake i realized you

know

after a while you
don’t have to follow
the finger that glows
in turns and turns to light
the way to a midwinter

moon

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I do so prefer the kinder mind of creation
to one tempered in fire of strife.
She who built me hand by steady hand
she who refused light of my life
and loved me only in imagination,
who is she who sold me a tale of sorrow,
a blighted cant of rheumy tears on a misty moorish
                                                     morrow,
what keeps those present scenes alive
by paper paging hands in candle or shadow
I took to wife, never again to feel the eyes
that I loved and do love commending
me past all manner of the small and the narrow?

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what tender voice kissed my ear tonight
and bought me flowers for my bed
why didn’t my heart stop when you stopped
where did sound go when you went
i have made my peace with morning’s dew drops
i have poured my peace out of windowed holiday
shops along festive arcades, measured
away all my naked days a wasted shell
and taken this name you shall not know
upon frenzied speakings of the tide
upon hopeless breaking of the night
save your breath and save your life
my truth you shall never know never guess
thus the will of the maker of my life

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adorable sparrow bird
that pecked at my feet this morning
are you married to your one true love
do you have a well read daughter
have you flown away your sorrow
in sunlight and in laughter

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