Vivid Division

 [Poetry], Black Champagne  Comments Off on Vivid Division
Sep 142011
Vivid division of night and day's erased.
If only light were a little less wanted,
The pang that brings us to our knees,
Praying and palavering among stone pews....

We murmur rumors of ill-lit hope
In illegible littleness,

Have easy breathing in a blunted cove,
Voluptuous sighs swiftly wrapped
In midnight velvets
And cool contentment at the core.

Our disdainful backs
Turned to the emergent sun
In reticulated whispers
Vibrant and magnificent.

The Ever-Arriving River

 [Poetry], Rehearsing Repetitions on the Rappahannock  Comments Off on The Ever-Arriving River
Aug 212011
How do we know we have arrived?

No gate blows open, no trumpet swings wide
Giving boogie-oogie oogie-boogie to the countryside.
Our horses must feed on grass, or perish.
So, too, our souls.  Having gone down the long defiles
All night, in a night that is not sure of ending,
Our souls paw their bellies and howl.
Even a ghost craves ghostly sustenance.

Have we arrived then, when midnight creaks
And starved souls howl at the wolvish moon?
Or must we still, in our hunger, kneel and pray?
Must a glittering track shiver in the sleepy pines
For the last mile shimmied on our knees?
Bend at that track, and drink with tragic hands,
With hands encased in silver to their wrists.

Drink and drink;  drink deep, O traveler--
Tomorrow we must find this river again.