Self-Portrait, 2009

i burned the blue from my veins
carrying arms filled with fire
to the glacier of your pain
but those flames only melted
the fragile piece reserved for me
now all I can see is you floating away
on the smallest fragment of your aching
and i wonder if you will ever be free
oh sweet mire of childhood dreams
when life or death unchains your heart
please remember me.

Beauty Tears

“Oh soul,
you worry too much.
You have seen your own strength.
You have seen your own beauty.
You have seen your golden wings.
Of anything less,
why do you worry?
You are in truth
the soul, of the soul, of the soul.” -Rumi

I took this photo today. It is part of a series of visual poetry on horses. I will post more soon.

Moon River

starling weaves silk lashes into
eyes deadened by sleep
raven claw and infant marrow
build thick into sinew and mercury

my beds are strewn in catacombs
wearing goddess on their columns
following the track of honey
to the beginnings of the sun

undone, sweetness is slow to cast waves
of troubled heart and faltering face
i am the blink of a muscling star
In a sky of boundless, glittering dust

wombless and wanton
buried selfless in soft
the songbird opens her mouth
and mimics the wind

it was cold outside the gate
summer snow pressed against hot metal bars
swans swam in melting reflections of the stars
i awoke to find them weeping
sky eyes pressed against the cage
the ocean of a heart beat inside
flapping it’s aching water wings into their beaks
agape and parched with glory and moon glitter
white serpentine throats
wound around salted crests of time
wanton and clinging to promise of some brighter depth
free by their weight in feathers
bound by their breath in time
woven thick into minutes
by breath and cloud changes,
and other sweeping bursts
of things called mine.

Veils & Oceans

filled to the brim, i crack again
under weight of wine filled porcelain
lips stain blood kisses on the rim
i am seeping through my pores
from wounds and tears made light
by twilight and distant vines

someday the room will be empty
or my friends will fall asleep
and I will scream into ghost ears
words that chase paper and guests away

my life is a practice in holding back oceans
made of skinless, boneless me
pressing hot against my pores
and searching for the door
that leads to the place where i can be

what if i let go, let flow
let the barriers down
and allowed the source of this well
to have it’s way with me
the world might eat my soul
or my soul might eat me free