Saturday, June 25, 2011

holding you through the apocalypse

we're giving it some careful thought. 
earl grey afternoons and i sleep in late.
i found a new chamber within my chest 
just beneath my heart 
it houses the part of me that is 
railing against the tide which tugs
all of these natural disasters 
into action.


holding you are holding me through
the apocalypse. 
i'm gazing impotently at this cartouche 
its inscrutable hieroglyphs 
could be thick on the tongue 
like a lead coin or smoke 
like the ashes in Portia's throat.


i am knitting a shawl to keep 
the naked body warm. 
once i spoke of a jaundiced mind
as if it were not mine.
i was simply in wait.


Shiva moves in her sleep.
for nourishment I have chiefly been
choosing olives dusky purple and black as 
leaking tar. fermented tea. i do feel
like Portia some times.


i think that a facet within me 
longs to move like a shadow
but i am cumbersome flesh and heavy hair.
i can nearly hear a distant vacuum 
some moments,


when i am alone.
yet you are
holding i am holding you through 
the apocalypse. on this bed.
if ever i am sought 
there i'll be. 





Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Monday, June 20, 2011

Summer makes me think of summers, summers.

But then, long life, will you let me in? 
And then, slow heart, are you gonna know him? 





Summer makes me think of summers, summers. 
Outside the air pants heavily of grease black nights. I walk and walk but can’t stay ahead of its slur, once conspiratorial, now lisping-- remember remember-- remember as if I could forget.I didn’t have any secrets when my mouth was opiate slack, they all spilled forth like so many scarabs, left a cough of sand and resin in their wake. I thought that my body was the only oasis even as I drenched its dried corpse with wine, to keep it from sloughing away. 
Now my secrets are ants beneath a magnifying glass as heat congeals the day. 

Sunday, June 19, 2011

song to the siren

On the floating, shipless, oceans
I did all my best to smile
til your singing eyes and fingers
drew me loving into your eyes.
And you sang "Sail to me, sail to me,
Let me enfold you."
Here I am, here I am
waiting to hold you.

Did I dream you dreamed about me?
Were you here when I was full sail?
Now my foolish boat is leaning,
broken lovelorn on your rocks.
For you sang "Touch me not, touch me not,
Come back tomorrow."
Oh my heart, oh my heart shies from the sorrow.

I'm as puzzled as a newborn child.
I'm as riddled as the tide.
Should I stand amid the breakers?
Or shall I lie with death my bride?
Here me sing: "Swim to me, swim to me,
Let me enfold you."

Here I am, Here I am, waiting to hold you." 

Thursday, June 9, 2011

am e d

where did you go i needed you
where was i when you needed me

looking around isn't yielding anything
but fat for the flames

save myself some time and decide if i want you
could you stand in the silence when it doesn't feel all right

i never expected to but i caught you
someone gave me the keys to the night

dm am e

oh antony it's not you it's me
i'll be the end of me

oh antony i've got a theory

am e

it only takes one asp to thrill me

am e

i'm so afraid kindness might kill me

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

listening to brian eno 'the big ship', 'i think it's going to rain today' randy newman, and 'jolene' ray lamontagne.

trouble river trouble troubled mind
sometimes i think hey
i made it

then become so confused
because i can't remember
if i took my pills today

all of my friends, they're
so good to me,
they know

allison doesn't remember.
and all of my friends, they're
so good to me, when i trip
up and break

because i remember.
it sounds like the dead grey dissonance.
i remember remember some

trouble river trouble troubled times.
got troubled times on my mind.
maybe it's too late

for me hon it might not do any good.
it might be you should take off like a shot
in the direction from which you came.

for years i thought that
i knew what i wanted but
i dont want to show you my broken face.

here i am feeling sorry for my self,
put that old volume back on the shelf.
it's trite as magazine trash

and it's goddamn old news.
but i guess pretty
baby i just haven't got booze

and all the bull shit's dissipated
that i used to hold on to
and now it's just me and over there it's just you

two tin cans and one long piece of string.

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