I haven't posted to this one in a while, but

I'm gonna get rid of my myspace, so I want all the poetry I've been keeping on my blog there to be preserved. I'll try to put it in digestible chunks instead of one post.

* * *

Displace

The Sun cannot see

his own light; he is too close,

But he can see the Moon.

* * *

Memento Qui Pulvis Est

All these flowers are dead;

They just don't know it yet.

The dendobrium, hovering over

the arrangement like brown and yellow wasps,

the ponderous cushion mums,

seemingly sculpted out of orange frosting,

the roses

and especially the miscanthus,

casting its writhing hands above them all

like a widow in the throes of suttee, all cut

and held in urns while they dry out.

In the pew behind me, I hear

"They did a nice job with the arrangements."

"He was such a gentleman, so dignified."

"I remember when" But she's cut off

by the beginning of the service,

And we all begin to take our leaves

Of one beautifully gone before us.

* * *

Synaesthesia

Sunlight smells like sizzling bacon,
sounds like alternating current
buzzing behind the wall,
feels like a pinched nerve
a hot shower,
like blushing.

But it can't be seen
as it skitters from meridian to meridian,
touching flowers, fences, faces
with warm, electric fingers,
like solvent soaked brushes
cleaning the world.
It looks like the sound
of one hand clapping.
If it fell in the forest,
Would it make a sight?

* * *

A weighting

That moaning incubus, the wind, lay on the trees

who labored under the weight

and breathed heavy.

He seemed to want in, so I opened the window,

letting him cover me like a cool blanket

and fill the empty spot in the mattress.

* * *

Syzygy

The sometimes doors

reminding me and that

other visible Venus formed a

perfectly and rotating and celestial

and all Auriga's at the Moon becomes

it makes eye level of spheres

the exit columns line each straight

pass Venus, the Moon and Auriga's wheels

formed a perfectly straight line at eye level

reminding me that sometimes

it all lines up and makes sense--

the rotating columns of doors, the celestial spheres

pass each other it all and the exit becomes visible eye

lines of Venus and Auriga's reminding me level at

the Moon perfectly makes sense up that

sometimes straight line of

pass each other becomes visible

rotating columns formed a

wheels spheres doors

and the exit

celestial

* * *

This last one is one of my best poems ever.