Saturday, January 25, 2014

A Space

I recognize myself on the road,
in the stillness of nature.
The horizon is clear.
I recognize my reflection as my blades chisel the
frozen face of the river, rushing underneath the ice
filled with cold, racing fish.
I recognize evergreens growing old with me
Like memories on the riverside.

Without love, one can’t live in solitude.

I’ve recognized the world holding me back from myself.
Opening up, swallowing me
into stores and banks.
I’ve recognized there is more in
store for me on abandoned river banks.
The sun behind the grey skin of the sky in the winter
in this landscape- in the ball-room of my heart.

Another lone dancer,

Halfway down the road.


Saturday, January 18, 2014

Corporate Silence



Like a piece of shedding skin,
the scarf around my neck
is a smoky-grey cheetah-impression
of a sewing machine carpe diem
of a woman at fifty cents an hour.
Stitches, and dyes.

Life fell under the harvest moon
where I stood like a tree.
In the sky,
there was nothing but clouds
in a perfect fit.

There was more to it.
There were dogs.
I wished they were wolves
howling at the fiery eyeball
in the bruised billow.

I wished she was as strong as a silent tree.
I wished she could scream like dogs howl.
I wished it right there.

She wanted nothing.
I wanted everything and all the time.

Voices of a choir in my silence,
I wanted a prayer,
a dancing wind,
a muse,
an invisible touch,
Bukowski’s soul,
Thoreau’s mind to find
A thread of thought and time.

I wanted to rest in this illusion.





Published at http://www.counterpunch.org/2014/07/18/romero-and-vongsaravanh/