February 3, 2011
Still, sacred, silent, exploding out like hot buckshot, Sermons, wasps, stung and shivering, Shredded papers, strung-up kites, sunlight-stained skins, Tanned hides, coffee grounds and vodka shots, Mossy branches, new brown velvet, going stag, Deep-red luscious suppurating mouth, Smoke, oak, longer rope, Prophecy, vice, and repetition, Ceremony, white lines, circle and promise and surprise, Quick, dead, [...]
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March 26, 2010
for Saylor “It doesn’t really matter” (a sky is heavy, even an empty space) “It never really mattered” (a body is heavy, even an empty vessel) “It will never really matter” (you mattered too much; you were real, you were more than matter) My words carry nothing. I cannot say “you never really mattered.” Matter [...]
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January 31, 2010
To love myself, I must love the different and unknown. We are close as strangers; I don’t know you when you laugh, or droop, or weep, or sing, or sin, or how you keep when I am gone, or where you go when I return. What stone tower, smooth and white and unadorned is this [...]
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January 27, 2010
“Some water would be very pleasant,” she said, and then sang, as they lifted her out of the ground, “God is good; do not fear death! God is good!” Did angels visit her before she was rescued by angels? Could I sing “God is good” after eight days pinned on my own mutilated hand under [...]
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November 12, 2009
“The right reading for this is the one I’m giving it.” Orson Welles Draw God’s navel, body hair See? all your parts were always there. (He was a man like you, you know Placenta to an embryo.) Obscured by white clouds, cherubim Are all of that which make You Him. Draw in and then blow [...]
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August 10, 2009
Manage expectations Modify desires Moribund religion Smoke to veil the fires “I think this is probably the hardest thing to deal with,” he said, and then, “whatever you choose, just make sure you are true to yourself –“ “that’s all that matters.” Holding hands affirmed a life Time wondering, Watching, waiting, wanting, Trued all the [...]
Filed under: biography, love, pilcrow, poetry | Comments (3)
June 16, 2009
[audio:http://www.thebutteredslice.com/squid/mp3/Easter_Song.mp3] Where’d your gardener go? Has he left you lone? Clouds began to show, He packed up for home Snowflakes fall Snowflakes fall Raise your tender shoots, Now the winter’s gone Beat back to your roots, Your first bloom withdrawn Rise once more! Rise once more! Slow at first to Show your green and Glow, [...]
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May 6, 2009
Burn The Book I. In a box, among the papers I have collected and forgotten, Bound in a white jacket, with a cut and glued spine, Are the pages that shamed my youth. The text says: We are not in our control and never will be; God hears our cries but will not apprehend or [...]
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September 30, 2008
Someday, old and baggy-sad I’ll slip on air, land on earth, shatter shoulder, hip or pelvis, plant my bones and sprout a stone above the ground Or I will wear so thin and slight that light will fade me out completely I will then address all shades and spots as brothers, nieces, long-dead mothers All [...]
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June 17, 2008
[audio:http://www.thebutteredslice.com/squid/mp3/Wake.mp3] I wake–it seems I had fallen asleep On watch at the top of the hill. I think how as the sun has set, I’ve lost my own shadow in the Earth’s. The day has moved it’s face To look upon the fires far away. From there, the last of the news that we heard [...]
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