Recent poetry

Moonflower
Balloon-flower dridts away, to find the moon.
Soaring above trees and grass,
houses and plains and factories-
all falls below.
The peaks descent, the heights draw no nearer.
Balloon-flower finds the familiar world shrinking,
surrounded in blue and white fuzz,
a soft medley of cool dampness,
continues holding breath.
Balloon-flower, colder still,
she gathers her breath in close,
holds a comet by the tial,
farther flying, speed ignores all pain.
Balloon-flower suddenly falling
sees a rubbled landscape, far away-
grey and faded and dry, colorless desert.
She falls- hits.
Unpierced by hte dulled rocks she sits,
growing greyer by the day,
by the cold lunar night.

One more drop into the basin,
one more breath in the dark.
There is no more retreat,
the womb is closed.
Pain becomes a panacea: if it hurts,
you don't have to think.
ANother tear is just a tear,
no different from the one before.

You offer me the world, in far from the usual ways.
You hand me everything I want, at your own price.
If only...
But I have to hold back,
To se e the unaware parrots, the un-seeing pride
in the eyes of the unknowing:
I can not return to ignorance.
I am no worshipper at your altar,
no offerings, no fruit and flowers do I bring with bowed head
I thought you had more dignity
than to fall for being an idol.
Touching me, you ask me to give in,
and want me to push you.
THere is more to your charm than I want to see:
Charm buries hate buries love buries hate-
where does it end?

THis last one is likely still too close to the subject. And Steve, yes, this is what I was editting, on impulse, at dinner.

Recent poetry

Moonflower
Balloon-flower dridts away, to find the moon.
Soaring above trees and grass,
houses and plains and factories-
all falls below.
The peaks descent, the heights draw no nearer.
Balloon-flower finds the familiar world shrinking,
surrounded in blue and white fuzz,
a soft medley of cool dampness,
continues holding breath.
Balloon-flower, colder still,
she gathers her breath in close,
holds a comet by the tial,
farther flying, speed ignores all pain.
Balloon-flower suddenly falling
sees a rubbled landscape, far away-
grey and faded and dry, colorless desert.
She falls- hits.
Unpierced by hte dulled rocks she sits,
growing greyer by the day,
by the cold lunar night.

One more drop into the basin,
one more breath in the dark.
There is no more retreat,
the womb is closed.
Pain becomes a panacea: if it hurts,
you don't have to think.
ANother tear is just a tear,
no different from the one before.

You offer me the world, in far from the usual ways.
You hand me everything I want, at your own price.
If only...
But I have to hold back,
To se e the unaware parrots, the un-seeing pride
in the eyes of the unknowing:
I can not return to ignorance.
I am no worshipper at your altar,
no offerings, no fruit and flowers do I bring with bowed head
I thought you had more dignity
than to fall for being an idol.
Touching me, you ask me to give in,
and want me to push you.
THere is more to your charm than I want to see:
Charm buries hate buries love buries hate-
where does it end?

THis last one is likely still too close to the subject. And Steve, yes, this is what I was editting, on impulse, at dinner.