Clouds and Trees

"Nothing ever goes away enough or arrives enough,/ and I want to cry when I think of my heart,/ muscle pounding in muscle, greedy always for joy." – 'A Warning', Eric Anderson

Month: July, 2008


Everyone deserves a poem, he said
not me, said she
and he laughed at her delusion
the sadness
still fresh
in his eyes


Forgive Me

She was
one of the few people in the world
that I didn’t understand
and that confused me
and scared me
and for her sake
I hoped that the things she believed weren’t true
they certainly weren’t to me

But anything’s possible
to someone whose eyes have been closed for years
face covered by the hands of her father
together they danced
and when he knocked her to the ground in his excitement
she apologized, and took to apologizing
it has always come easily to her
closing her eyes and being apologetic
and as her mother drank tears in the corner
with the pots and pans strewn about the floor
the bells of a telephone tore the silence
that had smothered that house for so many years
and as she stared into the void
she closed her eyes
with the voices of her father and mother
ringing in her eyes and ears and mind
and lying in the dark
of a whitewashed bathroom
she finally made her escape
and as always
she had no one
but herself
to blame

A Thousand Times Over

He sat and watched
as those black spots littered the ground
nearly red lines in the snow
and he ran through the greyscale maze
slipping through the shuffling calves
of a shuffling nation
his ghostly reflection
framed by the echoes in his expression
lines etched by deadly memory
blood in the snow
and the boy who only watched
and in his selfish way
and never stopped running
and never would.

Shaolin Mountain

sloping hills
and sacred mountains
with separate stories
and no truths to speak of
we knew no religion
but the simple effortlessness
of those rivulets of water
like melting silver
washing clean
the world-weary windows
of our sanctuary


With blood and toil and tears
we loudly exited the shelter
of a woman we never loved
and as she closed her eyes
releasing a sigh with her burden
we solemnly thanked her for her trouble
but the trade seemed hardly fair
to the man behind the glass
sending her off
with blood and toil and tears.


We could all use a little time
to make our sentences rhyme
kissing shuddered words
onto closed ears
she rehearsed all her lines
and prepared all four nights
and when the lights returned
she met his eyes,
took a moment to wash the dishes,
and stepped out.


Sitting on the beach
watching the ocean go home
mourning the wash of the waves
that come and go
shifting ancient sands
cut by rain and rock
the salt scrapes and burns
as I rise, cracking, breaking, crumbling
I spill my contents into the shallows
and breathe in a billion years of life and death
and gift the tide one final expiation

Never Rest

Dying your skin white
Because Nepal’s highest peak
Has shit sympathy


I’ve traded my dreams
for these poems of mine
It’s getting harder to see without sleep
But when I turn off the world
it’s the nightmares I mind
They’re worth nothing, nothing

You closed your eyes
to the meaningful, magical
giving your heart
to the real and the rational
I’d trade that life
for one moment of mine
It’s worth nothing, nothing

We opened our souls
to the shining divine
blind to the fissure
the burning divide
that gives us no peace
when we try to make time
and the fire keeps burning,
though it never was mine
one day I’ll be nothing, nothing

Respiratory Lament in Haiku

the dancing white smoke
my mistress of maladies
death comes easily