Ordinary who would ever believe looking into your ordinary eyes could stop me from breathing; that touching your scars could transport me to the stars who would ever believe two ordinary sets of hands could cartwheel to the moon and back, and again, and back then sleep in an ordinary bed in an […]
your morning beauty your eyes in civil twilight the small of your back your sweet sweet kindnesses the love in your eyes seen through my eyes your quiet magic votre chapeau blanc votre chemise bleue your willingness your hopeful your aching rocking rhythm that flicker that grin that curling in you do when we entwine your mysterious […]
to make a river proud — i do not have the tools for this. river says yes, you do, child. yes you have eyes, ears, strong hands and a fine heart. you are my beloved and i will always be proud of you.
Other Lives And Dimensions And Finally A Love Poem My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers of my palms tell me so. Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish at the same time. I think praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think staying up and waiting […]
if i could come to where you are if i could touch your shining face if i could hold your broken hand if i could sit with you in the treetops my eyes grow dim but i could sculpt you in the dark and the stars, the stars are watching you even when night is […]
we had no boys at our parties just tea and cribbage sometimes a bowl of bugles beatles 45s and one glass of pop each if mom was in a good mood she loves you ya ya ya 8 days a week baby it’s you we hung off each other and slowdanced a clumsy box-step shuffle […]
Lovely review of Kissing Keeps Us Afloat from Michael Dennis over at Today’s Book of Poetry. And when I say lovely, I mean fan-fucking-tastic. Some highlights: kissing keeps us afloat is a sustained torrent, a laughing rush, a relentless scream/yodel of passion. This red boat has no oars as it crashes against the shores of love, breaks […]
her holy hands scorch me that effervescent grin the laugh that went into the candle wax those splashing eyes her fingers a myriad of vowels, of consonants that eclectic thing she does when she breathes me in her winsome writing dress introspection is where she stepped onto the bus murmuration is where she got off […]