30 November 2010

It is where we reside without holding a place
In eyes or voice
With inward face to a pattern wed,
A mere standard of breath,
Indifferent animal, to be
Unwrought by the furniture of complexity.
Desire surcease
Is a house aslant of angles
Out of memory is the foundation bent:
Of new faults to the splintered roots
A signature make,
And crescent of a bending.

23 November 2010

The square root of minus one
Upon the flecked blue grass
As if the leaves had wings to angle
Their yellow selves along the unreal axis.
By the autumn tree our terminus we wonder
At the once-green:
The jetsam of chance,
Or fine vortical solution?
No: it is the freemasonry of the unthinking,
With sister truth arrayed,
Beyond an art's arraignment;
What beauty's beheld in this field
Needs no beholder.

15 November 2010

Can you distill the time,
To make pale hours a dark
Moment's condensation?
It would of brevity taste,
Brief pain, brief desire;
For the body makes its own liquor,
From the lightest touch a depth,
But years are slighter than a day
And want this still to hold them:
Time as hapless ends as it beginning tends
To suddenness and fury.

05 November 2010

Tiny human figures frozen
Is the distance between
The sun on my face and the sun:
Small concerns lit by smaller still,
What is is not what's seen.
The wave of local gravity's
Misproportioned to its wider scend:
What was is larger now,
Umbra, penumbra, present light.
A frieze of stone or painted cave
Breathed once
Wherever you stand, observer, observed.