To a Heart so desperately in Port


42

I am oppressed by Cathedral tunes
Of another age, or am I so ancient thus?
Carrying a Heavenly Hurt

From life to life, like a thief –
With little internal indifference
And hugged purple scars

That give me my cup of meaning
For the water of brief identity
It’s an imperial affliction to be

A part of a world you don’t believe in
A species, that made wrong choices
There’s shadows everywhere

Hold your breath, do not partake
In the look of death, though it kills you
Without a sound, this is the life

We have been given –
the appalling calculations, as a
Funeral on the road, with

No pennies for flowers
Without self-forgiveness on wild nights.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Sunkissed-0469-399845418

To have lavender lips under the leaves of the world


11

In poems anything can be said
eyelids don’t obey the night
hearts might float as silver flying machines

throats might have a spiritual flicker
in poems anything might fly
slow heart breaths to music’s touch

lavender creeps in through the bedroom window
and fragrance tell us a bed-time story
In poems dreams collide, with the ocean’s floor

with stars that spring loud as the streaming sun
treasures could last for centuries
on eager notes of autumn amusement

In poems anything can zealously work
for the beacon of the times had a candle
that said to each morning how much I loved you

with a mouth for cranberry tea and the bluest glow
In poems I miss you always
for even careful words are too numerous
To be taken seriously.