The Tick of the Clock

I do not want this
But the draw is irresistible.
I feel the blood in my veins slow
As if to pool.
The breath in my lungs
Still
To the faintest
Respiration.

All the world seems to pause.

A handbreadth above
The western horizon
The blazing orb
Is swallowed by a hungry mouth
Of dense clouds
And has no more glare
Than the sides of a blast furnace
In the din of manufacture.
It is a dirty light
In a dirty sky.

I want to think
Of pleasant things.
I want to study the warmth
On my back
And the lush spring grass at my feet.
I want to drink deeply of the energy
I know must be here.

I want to live.

But as the sun comes to ground
Good is in the shadow of bad.

I know it is not true.
I believe the structure
Of the universe is in sure command
And tomorrow the sun will rise
And breathe life into the whole world
And this amazing light
Will resuscitate me.

I live in the tick of the clock
So tomorrow is a leap of faith.
I will eagerly await
The blush of dawn
In tomorrow’s sky
But the night will be oppressive
And long.

Come
Morning.
Come
Quickly.

I believe.
Help Thou mine unbelief.

Tell Me

Tell me.
I am listening.
I have been waiting for you.

Tell me.

I need to understand.
What is it you’ve been feeling?
I need to know.

Tell me.
Where did you go?
Will you ever return?

Tell me.

I ache for perception of you.
I yearn to understand your life
Your hidden ways
The path you have chosen
What you see when you awake every morning.

Tell me.

Do flowers grow outside your window?
Do you rest beneath the shade of a favorite tree?
Is there a coffee shop that’s earned your patronage?
Do your arms shelter a puppy?
Are there songs you must sing?

Tell me.

I starve for knowledge of you.

Please tell me
Do you ever think of me?

Tell me.

Shake!

There are moments
I shake my body
In a vain effort
To dislodge the
Pain
That grips me
Constantly.

I know it is of
No use.
But this mighty urge
To toss this monster
Is anything but logical.
It is primal.
It is a reaction
In the same way a dog shakes
To shed water.

Except
For the dog
The effort
Is successful.

For me there is only
Laughter
Emanating from the pain
Itself.

You see
I have assigned my pain
A personality.

It is an ugly
Red-eyed
Massive creature
That has its teeth in my body
And shakes me
The way I would
Shake it.

Here’s to my fellow sufferers…
Shake!
Do it in the knowledge it is
Of no use.

Shake anyway.

Do it as protest
Do it as defiance
Do it as you would raise your fist
In rebellion against the pain.
Do it as a way to
Register your self determination.
Do it as insolence toward your tormentor.

Even action taken in hopelessness
Is better than
Useless surrender.

Shadow Lands

Thunder rolled across
The barren fields
Last night
Speaking but once
Then was silent.

But it was enough
To stir me
Enough to open my eyes
To the shadow lands
Playing upon the wall
And ceiling.

Strange
How thunder stirs the soul
Strange
How the mind travels time
Strange
Its deep reverberations
Strange
Its peculiar dance
In the shadow lands.

I listened for a second peal
But none followed
Except the thunder
Of memory.

Remembrance burst
Like the echo of storms
Upon stone canyons.

Sleep is impossible
When the shadow lands stir.
I buried my face in my pillow
And followed the traces
Of memory
Both kind and cruel.

The shadow lands are for
Visiting only.
No wise man would ever
Own property there.

Fair Warning

I feel it
This deep
Dangerous current
Flowing from my belly
Transiting my veins
Boiling my blood.

I keep
This knowledge
As silent as midnight
Rarely acknowledging
Its truth.

But it’s there.

Rage as certain
As frost in November
As sharp as a tinker’s blade
As hot as the fire of the forge
As extreme as venom
In the mouth of the cobra.

It remains sheathed
Behind my smile
And holstered
In my good nature.

There is no danger
To family and friend
Nor to the innocent
Sharing the pathway
Of blended shadow.

But touch the one I love
Disturb the soil I’ve carefully tilled
Throw my world into disarray
By wanton aggression
And I promise you
No bandage will staunch
The flow of misery
That will issue from
What remains.

Evermore

Looking into her
Unknowing eyes
Returned me to those
Of a distant time.

The one
Into whose eyes
I looked
Were not the ones
Looking back.

An ancient memory
Bubbled to the surface
Like a spell
From a cauldron
And I was taken
To one
Whose eyes
I cannot forget.

I’m sure it was unnerving
To my visitor
And I am sorry for that moment
Of awkwardness.

It was most disconcerting.

I could smell
The dampness of the grass
Upon which our blanket spread
Hear the caw of a crow overhead
Feel the tussle of the breeze
And the unnerving tease
Of that long-lost summer day.

Even the scudding clouds
Sailing the horizon
Were as the passing of a fleet
Full assail
Then as now.

I wagged my head
In vain effort to dispel
That vintage memory
Hoping to reengage
My innocent and unknowing visitor.

But, oh!
Her eyes were
The vehicle of transport
Removing me
To that distant day
When her flaring eyes
Burned the retina of memory
And seared her image
Into my view
Evermore.

Scattering

The universe neither knows me
Nor seeks to know me.
She does not regard what I think
What I’ve done
Nor does she intend to do so.

The universe is ambivalent
Concerning me.

Though I have made considerable effort
To draw her attention
She enthusiastically ignores me.
It is not that I am dead
To the universe
It is that I have never existed
Nor ever will exist.

I have sent signals
Messages
Launched flares
Kindled fires
Proffered deals
Wooed her
Pled with her
Bowed my knee to her
And behaved salaciously
Concerning her.
Still the universe ignores me.

I’ve developed my last strategy.
Beginning now
I will act as though the universe
Does not exist.
I will return ten-fold
The humility she has exacted
Upon me.

I have shamelessly pursued the universe.
Now she must chase me.
It will be
A kind of collapsing back
Upon myself
That may get her attention.

Perhaps that is what the big bang was…
A massive ploy
To attract by scattering.

Now I will scatter
To see what may be gathered.

I Will be Free

My spirit claws my flesh
To be free.

My flesh presses my spirit
For containment.

Neither is successful.

The contest will be decided
At a future time
When the rains swell the streams
When fires burn the sky
When winds lash the mountains
When the seas yield their dead
And the land and the sky storm
In a convulsion of smoke.

Then will I be free.

Unrepentant

I am the unrepentant
Cherokee
Whose tears stain
The long trail from
The ancient homeland
Whose back strained
At the point of Jackson’s
Bayonet
To mourn beneath
Your western sky.

I am the unrepentant
Confederate
Who never furled
His colors
Who set his jaw
At your impudence
Who faded into the
Woodland
Of your society.

I am the unrepentant
Sharecropper
Who did not accept
Your terms
Who did not profit from your
New Deal
Who wore his ragged jeans
The way you did
Your gaudy ties
Who scratched his way
To life on his
Terms.

I am the unrepentant
Protester
Who raised his fist
Into the smoke
Of your cities
And refused to die
For your Industry
Grit and urban
Gehenna.

I am the unrepentant.
Forever unrepentant.

And I will not yield.

Delicate Petal

Open to me
Delicate petal.

Offer me
The marvel
The lovely mystery
Of you.

Sweet creation
I desire you
As one transfixed
Before the wonder
Of you.

Gentle flower
Fill my nostrils
With your intoxicating
Aroma
And set me spinning
As a hummingbird
Seeking your nectar.

Open to me
Delicate petal
That I
Only I
May know the wonder
Of you.