August 18

comments 2
poetry

Still here, still,
here.

How many times
did she say it?

The practice
is yoking

together.
Sprawled along

the floor
like I know

what I’m doing,
Ujjayi, ocean breath,

now come and meet
this foreign body,

a little space, a little
more, a common interest

we seem to share,
now tell me more–

 

August 3

comments 2
poetry

An expanse of hours
an evening stretching open

like a mouth
cool breath

no,
cold

.

Watching the gulls
amid the old hotels

and new, so obviously
not homes

.

Anywhere
just anywhere else

but here

 

July 17 (in which I try to write and format a poem on a smartphone and it goes predictably badly…)

comments 2
poetry

The late-July breeze, distinctive
in ease, a quiet morning slipping by,
I wake and say I’m here! I’m here! somehow
still a fear of loss, despite the day unfolding
like a lawn chair, predictable, light-weight

.

To have, to hold– a leaf-dappled scene
a girder on the building, perforated
at regular intervals and the word
EMPTY over and over, is it a warning?
or a confirmation

.

There is so much space inside
these days, so little tethering
them in place, you think
an uncontrolled fall from there, 
you think the myriad faces, the counterparts,
negating, rescinding

.

A wisp of clouds here, but thunder
in the pass, maybe a loss
of temporality– a sweet sparrow
call, it’s so peaceful here,
so where am I exactly?

July 17

Leave a comment
poetry / Uncategorized

The late-July breeze, distinctive
in ease, a quiet morning slipping by,
I wake and say I’m here! I’m here! somehow 
still a fear of loss, despite the day unfolding
like a lawn chair, predictable, light-weight

.

July 12

Leave a comment
poetry

another day
box-like in progression,

predictability,
oh inflexibility

of time–
I’d rather

an ocean I’d rather
that ocean sound

that imperfect rhythm
constant yet

somehow revelatory
I know the pilgrim

changes it’s not
the pilgrimage

per se
but things are always

more tolerable
somewhere else

 

July 10

comments 2
poetry

Everything defined by space,
in gestalt, they say figure

-ground reversal, emphasizing
that negative space, sometimes

a new image pops out,
at the loss of the original–

seeing it another way
it cannot be re-seen

.

here the gingko
indifferent sky glimpsed

through scaffolding
at angles, is it contained,

constrained? somehow
the mind says no

.

but what does
the mind know?

a morning breeze
tinged with the sea

lifts all hopes
but sometimes

morning just slumps
into day, nondescript

and non-desired, the background
sets the tone

July 7

comments 3
poetry

Rain starting to come in
the open window

the day says get to the point
and July as a whole–

I don’t know,
it is somehow insubmersible

.

a stream of ragged people
go by  with unclear words

but that tone
is unmistakable

.

water beads up on the glass,
imperfect, but linear–

.

and so, this month goes on

 

 

July 5

comments 11
poetry

colder this side
of the pass

rain and the threat
of rain, almost worse

i think
for being imagined,

and you couldn’t imagine
the things i can think

in the vastness of
a room