There is a man
There is a face
That is carved out of stone
That softens to tender flesh
In the throbbing light of a star.
It is a constant metamorphosis
As the moon of stone
Makes its daily orbit.
As it turns its face away
It slowly hardens to rock
And then gently melts again.
Deep-set stones,
Round and glinting black,
Water and catch the light
Reflecting a deep amber-green
And dazzle with a spinning flower
That floats in the center.
The sharp, vivid features,
A cast-iron profile meticulously chiseled
Out of cold, grey stone,
Become tremulously soft in the
Tender caress of the light.
His skin is warmed, faintly tinted
Pale with the blush of a seashell
Heavy lids lower,
Trimming the seashell cheekbones
With tiny dark feathery shadows,
Gently squeezing out the dew of the morning,
Dampening the lashes and
Sending trails of glimmering silver through the dust.
Soon his lips begin to tremble and part,
And the planet quakes and rumbles
In the aftershock, and aeons of
Sedentary dust is choked up in his throat.
His eyes roll open in agony as the
First words come out, but they come out.
His voice is whispering and cracked
And suddenly
The stone begins to crack,
And the rivers are loosened,
And the water surges up and floods
And coarses steadily over his face
And the dust is cleared away
And the rock is peeled back
Exposing a cold, delicate
Figure of flesh,
Glowing clear and glassy in the starlight
And the extremities become warmed
And tinged with pink
And, breaking himself free from the Earth,
He sits up to look around, and is surprised
To see white, feathery wings folded behind him
He rises to stretch, and they stretch
Over around him
And he is proud of their sinuous grace,
So he stretches again,
Blinking up with a boy’s innocent love
At the smiling, glowing light
And rises in the air to join her.
Falling down the Earth
Sliding, skidding, tumbling into the sky,
Clouds’ splinters corroding my tender flesh,
Thick drops of blackish blood,
Spotting the silvery sunset.
I am sucked out
Through your teeth, and my tears
Roll down your throat;
I cannot cry, I have bored out my eyes
Many years ago.
You’ve seen the hollow sockets
You’ve kissed the bruised lids,
And wept for me instead.
Now I cover my face in shame and disgrace,
For my heart has fallen into my hands
And I don’t know how to act.
I have hoped and I have denied;
I have rejoiced, despaired, died, and sang;
I have opened my skull on the post of my bed
And have scrubbed the sheets clean with the bones of my knuckles.
And you keep on loving me,
And you come, and you go, and you’re back,
So I leave my doors open;
And you try, and you’re bold, and you’re whimpering back,
And I love you, my darling little boy,
And I’m trembling weak,
And I’m numbed cold from the icy wind
That blows through the open doors,
And I need you, and you’re gone,
And you’re gone, and my hands,
White like the ice, have dropped my heart,
And are smeared with black-red designs
In whirling spattering shapes -
And I wonder
Why I’ve never loved them before.
I am fascinated by the big ships
I am alive in the sound
I am comforted by the cold and grey
I am in love with the resounding pound
Of the waves, the throbbing metal,
The shifting balance of the deck
I will stand here ready for an armful
I am ready to be lashed by the wind.
I will weep when I’m torn away from this thrall
I will angrily beat at the Earth
For it severs my cord and my call
From the air and the sea and my birth.
I’m in a box
A scary closed place
This stone in my chest
Has pinned me to the chair
It pushes me, squeezes down
On my lungs, choking the
Sand in my eyes
It’s blue, it wisks over the grassy plane
The heavy sky bears down
Lowers until it frowns across the horizon
Those eyes that rise behind the moon
Never blink, they sweep across the scape
I am struck
By the blue wind, blown down
Dizzy in the grass
Sand gritting my eyes
The smell
Intoxicating me
The sound
Sweeping me away
And I am gone -