Category Archives: Uncategorized

Night – Napowrimo Day 4

Your touch is more complicated than mine.

My identity is deferred,
suspended in the curtains,
on the broken wings
of a fly stuck on the glass.

Into the night’s arms,
I cross the avenue,
the alley and two clouds.


Napowrimo Day 3

Of things that my love once contemplated:
Sound and rain,
images in the park
lost amongst the black fluttering butterflies,
Children’s mouths calling like
red bells ringing.
When the sun was in my eyes
I rediscovered the waves upon the sea.

Your Promise: Napowrimo Day 2

They’re your streets
of nakedness inside gloom,
they betray your words of

Fauna awaits the fog while
balsamic colors
cover the window with
a dark tunic.

Victory is Theirs – Napowrimo Day 1

lead fairies’ carts into battle
the light of ascension flows free

The Haircut The Sunday Whirl #265

There’s doubt with our talk,
her words in the air
mingle with mine,
each bit of hair​ she cuts
falls away wild
to the floor
lost and loveless.

The mirage is real:
seagulls searching for light
circling the shore amid the smoke.

The future of day breaks in our eyes
fallen bodies
shaping September
it distills time cradling
boats in the water.​

I Call Him Solomon The Sunday Whirl #264

​Coexistence throughout the course of summer:
From distances,
there’s power to approximate me on these roads
as it doubles my vision and
links me to the private signs
existing in hidden languages
mutable, or unspoken.
The body of her laughter emerges from the room
from here to the bridge,
I hear a man’s voice of fable intentions embroidering
​figures in the tapestry of flames
it burns creation where it can be dreamt again.
Beloved in memory my angels are veiled and
frozen by widows who mourn death,
I have been with them.
My hands inherited lightness from him
discovered amid the sparkle.
Bees forever love a flower’s sweetness.

I Call Her Esperanza The Sunday Whirl #263

I do not know anything but that slow
fall aurora over the world and
all the things my love contemplates;
lilies beneath pillow dreams
when rain sounds and
images peek into
all the beings who once were trees.
There is only a day given to me,
a brush stroke,
a turn from pain.
I cross my heart and her blessed fingers
cover mine with serenity.

“When We Kissed” The Sunday Whirl #261

I love you with joy.
It splinters my pain as it stretches
against what can be.

I love you there against the destroyed wall
in a city bruised by bullets,
against the sun and wind,
against love that has been.

I love you against summer nights
contrary to the light
as its silent likeness travels
on the sea with September’s approach.

My lips express
night ceremony in ghost places
against invincible death’s smoke.
A warrior trapped in memories sails away.

The Breaking of Maps The Sunday Whirl #253

There is a split.
Her fingers covering serenity,
preserving until summer light is darkness.
There is restraint in casual movement
when inheriting these conditions in clarity;
a vestige of sacraments and an embrace of hardship.
She holds the keys to life’s presence
where the dead swallows had once captured amazement,
her first mutism on marine dawn’s withered face.
The wind continuous and ascending
shall miss fleeing hysteria with the sand
writing her eyes inward.

A Mote Surrounds His Heart NAPO #19

In the morning;
It’s calm and quiet
everything’s covered in white,
colour of the gloria.
A hoop’s no longer tethered by its strings
It hangs lifeless, broken and disconnected.

In the afternoon;
The sun and me — I wait,
I try to speak to
shoveling men shoveling
forever dirt, where neglected plants
die in their frequency.
A dimension with mysterious energies.

At night,
stars swim like fish
endless in a cloudless sky,
a train derails between the dandelions and grass fields.
Where are the principles of peace?
Sureallism surrounds my heart,
woven in filament silk.

Shore, sand, and water creased by waves.
A kingdom with souls that vibrate.