September 8

September 8, 2016
by C
comment 1
poetry

And like that, overnight,
the end of full summer—

a tainted glass, rain,
that striking first chill.

Oh there is something
so sad and lovely

about these first days
of autumn:

A distance
carries more,

an absence
weighs, a heart

grows blonder, gold
as desire, as early

larches turning
to fire, as bold gestures

dreamed of in quiet
hours, the night

gone still. The night
that follows the day,

the beauty and terror
of the inevitable, prized

apples and aftermaths.
I know why love

is depicted as fruit,
it begets itself, grown

ripe around the seeds
or stone, anything

for a taste
of what remains, forever.

August 18

August 18, 2016
by C
comments 2
poetry

Still here, still,
here.

How many times
did she say it?

The practice
is yoking

together.
Sprawled along

the floor
like I know

what I’m doing,
Ujjayi, ocean breath,

now come and meet
this foreign body,

a little space, a little
more, a common interest

we seem to share,
now tell me more–

 

August 3

August 3, 2016
by C
comments 2
poetry

An expanse of hours
an evening stretching open

like a mouth
cool breath

no,
cold

.

Watching the gulls
amid the old hotels

and new, so obviously
not homes

.

Anywhere
just anywhere else

but here

 

July 17 (in which I try to write and format a poem on a smartphone and it goes predictably badly…)

July 17, 2016
by C
comments 2
poetry

The late-July breeze, distinctive
in ease, a quiet morning slipping by,
I wake and say I’m here! I’m here! somehow
still a fear of loss, despite the day unfolding
like a lawn chair, predictable, light-weight

.

To have, to hold– a leaf-dappled scene
a girder on the building, perforated
at regular intervals and the word
EMPTY over and over, is it a warning?
or a confirmation

.

There is so much space inside
these days, so little tethering
them in place, you think
an uncontrolled fall from there, 
you think the myriad faces, the counterparts,
negating, rescinding

.

A wisp of clouds here, but thunder
in the pass, maybe a loss
of temporality– a sweet sparrow
call, it’s so peaceful here,
so where am I exactly?

July 17

July 17, 2016
by C
Leave a comment
poetry / Uncategorized

The late-July breeze, distinctive
in ease, a quiet morning slipping by,
I wake and say I’m here! I’m here! somehow 
still a fear of loss, despite the day unfolding
like a lawn chair, predictable, light-weight

.

July 12

July 12, 2016
by C
comments 3
poetry

another day
box-like in progression,

predictability,
oh inflexibility

of time–
I’d rather

an ocean I’d rather
that ocean sound

that imperfect rhythm
constant yet

somehow revelatory
I know the pilgrim

changes it’s not
the pilgrimage

per se
but things are always

more tolerable
somewhere else

 

July 10

July 10, 2016
by C
comments 2
poetry

Everything defined by space,
in gestalt, they say figure

-ground reversal, emphasizing
that negative space, sometimes

a new image pops out,
at the loss of the original–

seeing it another way
it cannot be re-seen

.

here the gingko
indifferent sky glimpsed

through scaffolding
at angles, is it contained,

constrained? somehow
the mind says no

.

but what does
the mind know?

a morning breeze
tinged with the sea

lifts all hopes
but sometimes

morning just slumps
into day, nondescript

and non-desired, the background
sets the tone

July 7

July 7, 2016
by C
comments 3
poetry

Rain starting to come in
the open window

the day says get to the point
and July as a whole–

I don’t know,
it is somehow insubmersible

.

a stream of ragged people
go by  with unclear words

but that tone
is unmistakable

.

water beads up on the glass,
imperfect, but linear–

.

and so, this month goes on

 

 

July 5

July 5, 2016
by C
comments 13
poetry

colder this side
of the pass

rain and the threat
of rain, almost worse

i think
for being imagined,

and you couldn’t imagine
the things i can think

in the vastness of
a room