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: January, 2010


In between these whitewashed walls
people teem, uncomfortably
like bees placed suddenly
into an artificial hive

Here we dance in an attempt to speak
but mostly just stand awkwardly
wondering if we would feel the same
if we were back in the places where we were raised

We sting each other unintentionally
while passing in the street
and believe we’re each alone in feeling
the same old static
tacitly shocking our brains into change

Sometimes I try my best to leave
this self-inflicted state of being
and in those moments I feel the grip
of a subtle fist
coarse nails and blistering skin
hidden within the sleepiness of smoke
silently keeping me
from ever understanding
what happiness might be



Sheathed in night
you cast a bell onto the breeze
and watch it toll itself away
on the winds that blow
forever and ever

At the end of the pier
you stand and watch the lights
that shine from the opposite shore
and you hear the bell
ringing away at the tops of the waves
and you see the ships that turn and twist
and smash themselves upon the shore
you watch and you listen
and you step onto the wet rocks
glistening with moonlight
you cast away the nighttime wrapped around yourself
and let the waves lick at your wintery white toes
as all along the bell tolls persistently
it echoes in the shifting of the sands
beneath your restless feet
it hides in the rush of the wind
and in the flapping of the fabric
that clings to your skin
as you step into the sea

The taste of salt floods in
until it is almost everything
but still the bell rings,
and somewhere on the water
pale fingers emerge
and then
quietly disappear again