Presence

Ω


The quanta ignore our restrictions
flowing where they will, existing
already when you arrive, reminding
sedately of all that is and of what remains

They do not flow, nor move here to there
after all, the motivation is unknown
despite our need for engagement
we trace the particle by whispering

We can not blink to reveal this new
world, a crystal that never breaks
impossible to drop and by its virtue
out of reach in the first place

That place where things fall together
without comfort, without resignation
there is no first among equals here
nothing first at all, only angels

These restraints ignore our description
existing as they will, tranquil in
ways we are not, so we tell ourselves
enough is known, no one dies or
disappears

palimpsest

graphing desire always leads you back here

to the place

where her lips fade into solips

all is becalmed

by that circular solace

that can only describe itself

so you may as well

raise the shade

the sun broke the clouds today

now

and then

dusk reveals

its lazy philosophy

as you are your witness

some smiles

lack the spots of leopards

yet leap

with the same vigor

remember?

The Weather

Wonder is an open sky
and a
green field

Later
it is dull amazement

Seventeen grains of sand
caught beneath
your fingernails

Forgotten
it is a shroud without label
a tower somewhere in the city

Love lives in that tower
with it's long coat and field glasses

Trundle

I am a project, sorry
it's my life's trajectory
my birth was a thing of wonder
accidental though it was
I push the result around in a trundle
when I tire, I lay down to sleep
did you know
subsistence is a brand of gauze
wrapped around yourself and belief
is mined at night from a quarry
the remaining pieces of flint
lie there, gray eyes struggling to emit
a sign or decision
uninfluenced by derision

Worship

Let my description wilt

familiar words appear

vague in your arms

let my definition remain

where it started

lips parting

goose bumps

rise in explanation

saddened by your charm

is this the gift?

the moon eclipsed

its evocation still

as dream's residue

of no moment

I am unquiet
imagining
my water's disturbance
its seeming

in its simplicity
it's base nature

how can I explain

water is not base
though its limits
wear

at the edges of
all it touches
leaving fewer traces
than my desire

I dream less
than when I was a child
no

I dream as always

but retain
less
sleep
the thief takes
even the smallest
leaves
the trees
have no use for their branches

I preserve
a path in the familiar
where the definitions brood
a single synapse
searching
for self rule

not Waving

I wish

I knew how to talk to

you sprang

from your sad father's brow

fully formed

an errant thought

begun as chicane

I am

a shoot

a spiral tattoo spent

in your garden

bidding return absent

shadow or

the mantle of evening

black

rivers flow

from

beloved sea

I grow tired

the words

inert

in the font

of my mouth