30 May 2010

The melon in the plastic bag
Is so without my breath,
And forgoes the politeness of discernment
In shades without spectrum
And mass without weight.
My opened eye's calculus is the same,
As natured as what's beheld,
Tasting sweet what is
Red without a name.

26 May 2010

A stone like a fever is my heart
From my only distance falling
Through stature's measure of a loss--
A minus of cold art.
A bird like a season is your heart
From your only distance calling
Through logical assay of a gain--
The remainder is but a part.

15 May 2010

For dominion sleep
And of endings dream,
And waking put finger to pane,
And eye to cloud and tree without,
To start at immediacy's
Blunt elsewhere's tang,
And your domain's razor-wide within.

06 May 2010

Shadows make light
As trees make a space of air,
As days a yonder field,
As absence, presence.

02 May 2010

In the mind's empire
From what vantage is this small beheld?
What buffets found this armature?
What vanquished fears seam
The heart's public square,
Where idlers indifferent
Recall views more fair?
What austerity's denuded
Ornate private spaces,
Or has clarity, or lack,
Suited deed to thought?
Any caretaker's redundant,
All make-work is done,
Emperor and subject
Were always one.