Summer Plans

I'm naked in my bed
again
incense filling the room
odor
sweet night perfume floats
away
tomorrow to finish packing the blue
milkcrates
bring the ripped tu-tu and leave sweet
dreams
tomorrow is the end of before
life
from the stage to the auditorium
balcony
shower with the friends I'm leaving
behind
locker room to cabin
bunk
one week and they will all be
here
June 8, 1997

All in the April Evening

Your face over the flames
I recall your smile- brown skin
round face
Procrastination for fear
as disappointment mounts and you
leave.
but i wait
for you? for myself?
for us.
you, the stranger in the picture
brush away my tears
along with your fears
pull me near, my head on your shoulder
stars above, waves below
our hearts between.
you came seeking a stranger and
found me.
lips and bodies warm in the chilled
night breeze
longing to linger forever pondering
the kaleidoscope depths of
your eyes.
April 30, 1997

Leave me alone.

No one, nowhere-
that's how I've been left
no belief, without fail
and two to four to six falls away
escape the same as life or death
I don't care, you don't matter
I won't, and you come home
soon I stop, but you go on
far and away and distant, but closer
I feel nothing, although I'm being crushed
ringing disturbs the flow rushing by
silence, hopeful- needing freedom sense
the thickness around growing more dense...
perpetual strengthened, clock ticking lengthened
I want to jump, but the ground falls away
The clouds are swirling through ramped stomping
stars falling burn the night sky with acid tainted worth!
I stop.
I watch, and burn as the sky, black bright stain
Never gone, never empty gesture
I don't believe...
Away, go away.
Jan. 23, 1997

Dreams

the cold steel slides down my back
i cringe slowly away to wait for attack
he grips my arm to pull me near
i feel the sweat from my temples run down
to pull away is my death-thought fear
my chest pounds out of my ribs
Jan. 1997

Moisture

I hear midnight,
calling withered roses-
dusty, black now.
The pink ribbon their noose.
Strongest upside-down
All becomes brown;
sometimes black.
Never red, never yellow.
These are beginnings,
only to fade- dull lustre away.
Thick, pungent, moist the petals
breathe.
Speak? For conscience.
For me. Even if only
within my heart.
The breath is my spirit,
and dry the changing wind.
Nov. 22, 1996

Life, Loss, Hope and Nothing

Once, before the sunrise,
I sent pieces of myself away.
Away over the star-spun sky,
into blackness and nothing,
far beyond.
My soul could escape then,
through the ruptured folds.
I watched my mists as they faded,
trying to grasp at shimmering Life,
Loss on his heels.
I paraded my might,
poised the image about myself,
forgot all undercurrent,
but yet I taxed taut Hope,
and broke her.
Out in that blackness,
they weave together,
each alone, derive strength
from each other.
And I watch, to pretend
I see, though Nothing-
with his piercing eyes is here.
Only him I see.
Nov. 22, 1996

Prima Donna

The ballerina spins,
turns in the sparkling snow swirls.
the strong wind sweeps around
past her glassy eyes.
flakes whipping fast.
her skirt stubbornly motionless.
Crown atop her unmoving blond glory
not a twitch.
yet sill she rotates.
frozen arms and fake plastic smile.
nearly naked figure warm as the
surrounding water,
as the snow crystals settle
and her movement slows.
the music fades
and she waits again for
the excited child to turn the key.
June 1996